An American in Westeros
by Cruen07
Summary: A modern American man finds himself in Westeros. Armed with foreknowledge, semi-modern technology and with Seven years to prepare, can the new Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal decide who wins the Game of Thrones?
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

2.0 is beginning! An American in Westeros, better edited and expanded. I promise at least an extra thousand words for each chapter minimum. Particularly as we get into the later chapters you can expect more.

You can also expect if not side stories than at least parallel stories. There are many more people in the world than the original focused on. What did Willis Wode think of indoor plumbing? What did Cersei and Whent talk about during his time in King's Landing? Where did Harry Bracken, regent of Harrenhal go after the first chapter? What are the personal thoughts of the ordinary citizens living through the changes that are brought about? Who knows? (I don't, not yet at least) We are going to find out together.

The story will be similar to the original but it may evolve in new and unexpected ways, these things take on a life of their own once they get going.

An American in Westeros 2.0

Chapter 1

Arrival

 _Journal Entry (Date: ?)_

 _Good news, I'm not dead! (Maybe)_

 _Bad news, I'm certainly going to die horribly! (Probably)_

 _I'll elaborate dear Journal because you are the only one I can ever relate all of this to and frankly I will go NUTS without letting this all out. I was an American. I was in a car crash, I had saved up all my money to buy a self-driving Google car. I guess it couldn't self-drive away from a semi in the wrong lane. Somehow I woke up in (dramatic pause) Westeros! Yay! (Sarcastic) Also I have to go through puberty again, my best guess is that my body 13 or so. I'll double back to the how and why of this when I know more (probably never). There is something weird going on in Harrenhal and given this worlds record with magic, I have absolutely no interest in finding out. Curiosity has killed a lot of people throughout history and I suspect I am going to be worrying about plenty of other things potentially killed me._

 _Weird or not, it's an opportunity. I arrived while Lady Whent (current owner of Harrenhal) was wasting away in her deathbed and she immediately took me for her long lost something or other returned by divine will and declared me her heir. What was I going to do? Say no and wander a hostile world with no resources or local knowledge?_

 _I suspect that the local Septon is a lunatic because it took almost no convincing whatsoever to declare my 'return' as a genuine miracle and a sign of divine favor. In a medieval world, the state religion has broad authority and with the lack of communication, one probably crazy man's proclamation can take hold over the land for a long time before someone with the authority to countermand it gets word. It takes even longer for them to come to a decision and send word back. If that does happen, I can think of many other ways to drag things out. Requests for clarification, messages being lost, debates on legality or even just playing stupid. All that means that I might have enough time to establish myself before people really start messing with me._

 _So, with a the command of a delirious and dying woman and the blessing of a probably crazy septon, I was declared the new heir with a regent to be decided upon by those who missed out on profiting from the end of Whent control of Harrenhal in the next few days._

 _Now I couldn't just ask everyone what year it was without setting off even more alarm bells so I have had to do some investigation and guess work. All the Stark children are born from what I hear but they are still much younger than in the beginning of the show. Based on that, I figure that I have seven or eight years before the shit-storm begins with the War of Five Kings. I need a game plan here._

 _Option 1- Bailout now and go to some beach in Essos with as much money as I can pilfer from the Harrenhal treasury and live out the rest of my days in peace. This seems like the safest choice at first but I only got to see season 5 of the show so I don't know if the White Walkers will make it over to Essos and even if they don't it's still a dangerous place with wars, disease magical beasts and I wouldn't have the protection of being important. Let's shelve option 1 for the moment._

 _Option 2- Try to get back to Seattle. It would be nice but I can only guess that it would involve magic and as I said before, I don't do magic._

 _Option 3- Stick around and prepare for the coming shit storm. Now hear me out Journal (I refuse to call you diary) this isn't as crazy as it sounds. Lady Whent won't last the week most likely. I can cut a deal with my regent putting me in charge in reality if not in name. With real power and resources I can restructure my lands and introduce targeted changes. Eight years is enough time to improve my situation greatly. If nothing else, it will give me time to save up money for when I bail._

 _Okay, I think I'm going to stick with option 3 for the time being. Assuming I stick around I need allies, I need to pick a side in the war and I need some goals._

 _Sides_

 _Rob Stark- Can't win. I'm sorry bro but this King in the North thing will never work out and I'm not going to tie myself to a sinking ship_

 _Renly- Second verse, same as the first._

 _Stannis- I'm not down with the whole burning people alive thing…or the losing._

 _Targaryen- I can't realistically wait for Daenerys to get here years and years from now on my own._

 _Greyjoy- AHAAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA_

 _Barratheon/Lannister- Am I really considering this? Am I really considering joining the bad guys even temporarily? I feel like Poland considering joining Germany in 1938 in the hopes of switching to the allies in 1944._

 _I need to sleep on this._

* * *

 _Journal Entry (291 AC)_

 _I saw someone writing a letter labeled 291 AC so I now know what year I am in. If I remember correctly, the War of Five Kings takes place in 299 or 300. Eight odd years then, that was an accurate prediction at the very least._

 _Lady Whent is dead and I lord Hunter Whent have a castle full of visiting Riverlords who hate my guts. Every single one of them knows what's best for me and they often don't agree. This poses a problem for me but I have a cunning plan, I'll let you know how it goes._

 _Hoster Tully is an ass._

* * *

 _Journal Entry (Do they have names for months?)_

 _It kind of worked._

 _My regent is Harry Bracken the 30-odd landless and bitter third son of house Bracken. He was considered unimportant enough to assign to a temporary position but loyal enough to support Hoster Tully's interests in Harrenhal. I had a frank chat with Harry about who would be really in charge at Harrenhal. After I gave him a choice between disappearing forever or having riches, land and the opportunity to start his own household all the while screwing the people who had denied him any opportunity for success, he joined my team._

 _With Harry's help I put all of my vassals and servants to work surveying, taking a census etc. the theory being that if I can keep them busy enough working for me they won't have enough time to plot against me. I sent my vassal Ser Willis Wode and several others to Essos on various errands._

 _Success!_

 _We also managed to send all of the Riverlords home eventually but unfortunately we managed to offend most of them. Harry is turning out to be a competent administrator but he is the farthest thing from diplomat imaginable and I don't know how to act like a lord, my mom made me read Emily Post but I don't remember most of it._

 _Less than successful!_

 _It occurs to me that the more I change things, the more my foreknowledge of events will be less and less useful. As much as it sucks, I think my best option is to pull a Switzerland until the right moment to make my move. Sorry Starks! I actually feel pretty terrible knowing what's going to happen knowing that these are real people._

 _In financial news, Harrenhal is actually fairly wealthy so I should be able to make some of my plans work. Plan number one is to tear the damn thing down. Based on what I know from the books and the show and by my presence here I have decided that Harrenhal has some kind of magic, I hired several septons, worshippers of the Old Gods and even a red priest to bless every stone, plank and piece of furniture they pull out of their just to be sure. I may be ruining my only chance to get home but I need immediate security from occult influences more than I need a slim possibility of getting home way down the line._

* * *

 _Journal entry (July 291)_

 _So they use the same calendar as us, I guess I shouldn't be that surprised given that they speak English. I can't help but wonder if the language and the culture is so similar or I simply have some magic with me always translating between me and the rest of the world. I arrived in April by the way._

 _Putting everyone to work turned out to be the right idea the survey I ordered found silver to the north of the old fortress, a lot of silver. I wrote to the Maesters in Oldtown and found that a proper survey of the Seven Kingdoms was never conducted, surveys have only been made by local lords and explorers and then compiled at Oldtown. It leaves me salivating over the resources that have not been found yet. Harry shares my opinion. I'm pleased with him, he has adjusted really well to the idea of a 26-year-old in a 13 year old's body and has been fantastic at setting up a fledgling bureaucracy to manage my lands while I try to translate my crazy ideas into reality. Hopefully my new guest shall help this process along greatly._

 _Dear God I said "shall", I've been here too long._

* * *

July 291

"You want to tear down your ancestral home?" Castellan Harry Bracken asked his charge incredulously. He had dealt with many odd and unexpected things in recent weeks, especially with regards to the partnership he had entered into with the young Lord Whent but this took the cake. He continued "I know it is not in the best shape but it has a proud history and tearing it down may have severe impacts on your already extraordinary claim."

Bracken and Whent were sitting at Bracken's writing desk in his chambers. Lord Whent was small and slight of frame but he had bright eyes that exuded intelligence and his movements carried a boundless energy with them. He began to lift a large stack of papers and leather-bound books of records onto the desk. Bracken scowled at this, he hated reading and writing and was in no mood to dig through even more on top of what his duties already forced him to do. "What's this?" He asked

Lord Hunter Whent spoke as he continued to fill Brackens desk. "These are the financial records of Harrenhal and its associated land plus documentation of every kind stretching back decades."

Bracken wore an expectant expression. He asked "and what do they say?"

Whent finally finished filling the desk and looked up at his regent to say "We should be rich; we would be very rich if we didn't spend so much money on the keeping this terrible fortress from falling apart around us. Forget the prestige of this ruin. If we tore this down, we could pay off all of the people whose opinions matter with regards to my claim with money left over. We can be build a new fortress. We can put it on the Kingsroad and tax a penny from everyone who uses it. We can say it's for maintaining the road to justify it. We even will spend some of the money on the road to encourage more travel. There are countless travelers along the road every day. We have plenty of guards we already pay to sit around and make their presence known. All we have to do is send a few of those same men to sit on the road and make their presence known!"

Bracken considered the possibility for several moments. Like most things he discussed with his charge it was clear that Whent had put more thought into matters than a boy his age would be expected to. It had merit. He motioned to the mountain of documents on his desk and asked "And all these documents support this, you've read them?"

Whent nodded and said "They do, and I have"

Bracken leaned back in his chair and thought about it some more. "We would need money in the short term, a lot of money. It would take quite a bit of time for our new income to reach acceptable levels."

"There are many ways to get money" Whent replied quickly

Bracken let out a small chuckle. "Indeed there are" He said "Some are smarter and less dangerous than others. Go now, I'm sure you are missing a lesson of some sort. You have given me a lot to think about. And take all this damned paper with you."

Whent flashed his best smile and began to gather his evidence confident in his victory. They had been through several conversations like this and he knew from experience that if you put enough paper in front of him, Bracken would not read a word of it and simply ask for a summary. A dangerous trait for the older man but a boon to one Hunter Whent. By this point he had taken to including pages and pages of gibberish in all of his proposals to make the reading seem intimidating.

* * *

July 291 AC

In a relatively humble manse 30 miles East of Harrenhal, Lord Hunter Whent practically melted into his new leather armchair when he first sat down. He took a mug of hot coffee newly imported from Ghis from his most trusted servant, Seneschal Grimsby and sighed with satisfaction. "Really my lord its midday, with the number of projects you've started upon is gathering moss from inactivity the best way to spend your day? Representative Nestoris is eager to see you." Grimsby chided lightly.

Lord Whent chuckled, "Grimsby what have I told you about Saturday mornings?"

"That they are sacred." Grimsby replied with the tone of one almost but not quite defeated.

Hunter nodded in absentminded agreement while staring absently at the smoldering fire. He turned back to Grimsby suddenly alert and excited "you're right though, I want to meet with him as well, have him meet me in my office in an hour."

"Very good my lord"

Hunter's office had been elegant showpiece designed to impress visitors without ever really being used. Under his occupation of the old retreat designed by some forgotten minor family or another, the gilded room had become a scene of organized chaos that frightened any maids brave enough to peek in. Aside from the tall and thin shelves of leather-bound books any of the gilded trappings of the office were lost to the drawings and diagrams plastered on every inch of wall space and every surface was covered in maps and charts. Stacks of records and other miscellaneous items lurked in every nook and cranny. All ornaments had been removed other than Whent Crest of black bats upon a yellow field above the main desk and a wood carving of an eagle standing alert resting on the same table.

Almost the moment Hunter sat down Seneschal Grimsby conducted Representative Nestoris into the room. Tycho Nestoris was tall, thin, and gaunt. He had a narrow face with dark eyes and a long, thin beard, which almost reaches his waist. He wore a brimless three-tiered hat of purple felt, robes of a sober purple trimmed with ermine and a high stiff collar that contrasted Hunter's dark leather jacket and well-made but simple pants and shirt.

"It's so good to finally meet you Representative" Hunter began, "please sit"

"Why thank you Lord Whent" Nestoris replied, soaking in the odd designs and figures around the room while sitting down. "I'll admit that I'm surprised to be meeting with you rather than your regent. You're taking on serious responsibilities for one so young." He had a rather predatory smile on his face.

"We'll double back to the issue of my age in a moment" Hunter said with a predatory smile of his own. He knew it wouldn't work with his young face but he couldn't show weakness. "The Iron Bank is known for its discretion, yes? Anything we speak of will be kept secret unless I default on my payments?"

"Of course" Nestoris returned.

"And you are familiar with the extraordinary circumstances associated with my arrival?

A single nod.

"Then know that I am far older than I appear. I don't pretend to understand how these circumstances came to be but understand that I am taking steps to deal with the forces responsible. In addition, understand the opportunity I bring." Hunter said with iron in his voice that seemed unnatural for one so young. "I come from a land far away, a land far richer more advanced than this one." He gestured grandly around the room to the designs. "I want to bring that knowledge, wealth and power here for all to benefit but I can't do it alone."

Nestoris took it all remarkably well, in fact he seemed to skip the shock stage that Bracken and Grimsby had shared and became keenly interested, even eager. "You need our money?"

Hunter was taken aback "You don't seem surprised"

Nestoris shrugged, "We in Essos are more accustomed to magic than those in Westeros and as I said, we already knew the circumstances of your arrival was extraordinary."

Hunter smiled with relief at meeting someone who could handle his identity. "I have the money and raw material for my projects, what I need is your network, your people. The Iron Bank operates around the world. I have the knowledge from my world but I need architects, soldiers, masons, scholars and more to make my knowledge into reality.

"We can do that, what does the Iron Bank get from this relationship?"

Hunter smiled "Well…"

* * *

 _Journal Entry (May 292)_

 _The Iron Bank found the people I needed. I ended up selling 8% of my silver mine for 2 Million dragons and agreed to house the Westeros branch of the Iron Bank. I'm sure I got robbed but in the end we both are better off from this deal. I immediately committed all of it to my various projects listed below._

 _2 new fortresses were commissioned, the first on the banks of the Gods Eye Lake and the second, larger one upon a large hill that rose 300 feet above the Kingsroad named Winterhold and Summerhold respectively. Each will be constructed with modern practices adapted into tried and true traditions. The massive construction projects have attracted smallfolk from the surrounding Crownlands, Riverlands and a few from farther abroad. The settlements springing up around them will only be an asset in the war to come. Unfortunately this has pissed off the Riverlords even more. I really need to start working on making friends._

 _I am hosting a Dothraki named Kalgo whom they managed to get drunk enough to cross the narrow sea. I put him in charge of training the officer corps of my new professional Light Calvary unit the 1st Dragoons. I'm not sure what to do with him afterward I'm satisfied though. He's too unstable to keep around permanently but the last thing I need is for him to go across the narrow sea again to let the Dothraki know everything about Westeros. In addition I have one Sargent Xhar of Ghis to teach Roman-like tactics to my new 1st Infantry, my plan is to build those two units up to full strength by the beginning of the war. Supporting these units will be my National Guard initiative. Rather than militias, the Guard will be far better equipped, trained and more professional than their peers._

 _Domestically, I have enforced laws requiring boiling water before use. In agriculture, crop rotation and basic harvesting machines like the moldboard plow are starting to be introduced into the fields. Over the next several years these should create a surplus that will last us through the coming winter. I have an experimental printing press tucked away in my manse. I want to keep that in reserve however, I am holding off on that and other inventions like gunpowder until we are closer to the flashpoint._

 _I can only handle so much however, with everything going on I am not sleeping in any meaningful way and neither are most of the people who work for me. We'll see how things develop in the near future._

* * *

December 292

"What are you going to do about it?!" Queen Cersei demanded of her Husband

"What are you screeching about?" The Fat King asked, finally rousing from bittersweet memories of simpler times.

"Screeching! SCREECHING!" Cersei howled with a rising fury. "I'll hav…" She stopped herself and looked around the luxurious royal apartments for any potential witnesses. "I'll have you know" she continued in an icy rage "that I don't screech you fat fool. And I was saying" she paused to reassert control over herself "that you have an important lord with lands bordering the crownlands building a fortress on the Kingsroad and building an army of foreigners and God's knows what else so what are you going to do!" She stared with hard eyes at him, waiting for his response.

King Robert sat for a long time considering the situation, completely unaffected by his wife's displeasure. Finally, he said "How many other fortresses are along the main roads? Five? Ten? It won't make a real difference in the long run. As for the foreign army. Well, no matter how much silver he digs up, he can't raise enough troops to be a threat to anyone but the minor Riverlords neighboring him, what's he going to do? Take over the Seven Kingdoms? No let him be, he's in trouble with the Riverlords already.

* * *

In the center of Harroway's Town Square, a large group of citizens were gathered to listen to an enormously fat and unbelievably loud town herald speak address them. The herald had taken up position on a platform that was used during market fairs and public executions. The symbolism was not lost on the townsfolk and all were anxious to see what the news was.

"I bring word from your new lord!" The herald began. "Momentous times are upon us. First, the fortress of Harrenhal is to be demolished, workers are sought at fair wages and reasonable hours. Go to the local in to see a recruiter for a position on the project."

A murmur of whispered discussion rippled through the crowd. This was good news, large construction projects meant good work for anyone who wanted it.

The herald continued "Second, a silver mine is to be constructed on a large deposit that has just been found, workers are sought for this new project. Go to the inn to find a job recruiter. That generated even more excitement. Lust for silver could be seen in the eyes of many a young man looking to make their own way. "Third" He finished "the military forces of Harrenhal are to be rebuilt. All capable men are encouraged to see their local recruiter and from here on out all citizens of Lord Whent's lands must practice with the longbow for two hours each week. Those who do not have a longbow may practice at a local garrison and borrow a longbow. These are the proclamations of our honorable Lord Hunter Whent."

As the herald turned to leave the crowd began to break up and many went back to their daily tasks. One Sulvan Tiren, a 28-year-old childless widower raced to the inn to be first in line. In the inn there were three tables, one for each of the recruiting jobs. He was first in line in to the military recruiting station. The recruiter looked pleased at his eager new prospect and said "State your name for the record."

Sulven snapped to attention and declared "Sulven Tiren sir!"

The recruiter suddenly looked even more pleased. He said "You're a veteran aren't you? There could be a bonus for you, what's your experience?"

"Sir, I was a sergeant in the forces sent to fight in the Greyjoy Rebellions, I fought in the final siege of pike hand to hand. I was among those who they let go as they downsized their forces after the fighting was over".

"Say no more" the recruiter said, "make your mark on this contract and we will get you back into fighting shape in no time.

* * *

 _Journal Entry (February 293)_

 _I'm in trouble with the Riverlords._

 _They are upset about me stealing their peasants, foreigners in their lands and making more money than them._

 _Oh and my liege Lord Hoster Tully demanded I stopped consorting with the Lannister and Tyrells. I was just selling silver and inventions to them…and negotiating trade agreements with them and the Iron Bank that were detrimental to the Tully's. No big deal! Honest!_

 _Hoster Tully is an ass._

* * *

 _ **March 293**_

 _ **Your Grace**_

 _ **I have been informed that you may be receiving demands certain entreaties from Lord Paramount Hoster Tully concerning my lands. I state that everything that he may list as a concern is happening exclusively on my land and has only benefited the Iron Throne. I ask you to consider these facts before making any decisions and to keep me informed of any developments.**_

 _ **Lord Tully helped you prove yourself greater than the Targaryen's in war allow me to help you prove yourself greater than the Targaryen's in peace.**_

 _ **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**_

* * *

 _ **Your Grace**_

 _ **The situation in the Whent lands has become intolerable. I request that you issue a Royal edict requiring the removal of the so called Winterhold Fortress from the Kingsroad and restricting foreigners from gathering in numbers.**_

 _ **Lord Paramount Hoster Tully**_

* * *

 _ **Your Grace**_

 _ **I would not recommend overly rash action in regards to the Harrenhal situation, I have sent my son Tyrion to advise you in this matter.**_

 _ **Lord Tywin of Casterly Rock,**_

 _ **Warden of the West,**_

 _ **Lord Paramount of the Westerlands**_

* * *

 _ **April 293**_

 _ **Lord Whent,**_

 _ **You make a good case for yourself. I welcome your efforts**_

 _ **King Robert of the Andals and the First Men,**_

 _ **Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,**_

 _ **Protector of the Realm**_

* * *

 _ **Lord Paramount Hoster Tully,**_

 _ **I find your case wanting, refrain from taking severe action in this matter for now but keep me advised of developments.**_

 _ **King Robert of the Andals and the First Men,**_

 _ **Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,**_

 _ **Protector of the Realm**_

* * *

 _ **Tywin,**_

 _ **Fuck Off,**_

 _ **Robert**_


	2. Chapter 2: Diplomacy

_I had the itch to write another chapter, don't expect an update every day though. Even Writers have lives on occasion._

An American in Westeros

Chapter 2

 _Journal Entry (September 294)_

 _I'm halfway to the War of Five Kings. It scares the shit out of me, I'm going into a war were people are going to try to kill me and the only option is to kill them first which almost scares me more. I'm not sure if I'll be ready physically either._

 _I've had to change my plans for fortifications entirely, I can't finish both fortresses in time so Winterhold on Gods' Eye Lake is being delayed and redesigned into a large star fort that will be done in 299 at the earliest. Since everyone just calls it "The Star Fort" I decided to change the name to just that. The benefit of this is that I have shifted enough resources to get Eagle's Reach (Formally Summerhold, more 'Murican now) finished with some time to spare before the war begins._

 _Between that, my military buildup and the prototypes, I am bleeding money. Oh, the prototypes are a mixed bag of their own within the larger mixed sack of my life. I have a world class team of experts in every field with far more practical knowledge than myself sequestered in an isolated and well protected villa. I spend a good deal of my time there coming up with new ideas for them to bring into life. Interestingly enough, I have found that military developments are far simpler and cheaper to develop than domestic ones. We have a prototype trebuchet yet we have given up (perhaps forever) on indoor plumbing. I have successfully developed a tiny batch of rough black powder yet I have barely made any progress in food storage or plant hybridization, it's a bit depressing._

 _I am completely satisfied with some of my projects though. Harrenhal is essentially operating like America under FDR's New Deal. There is enough government sponsored work for everyone wants a job to have one even if it's just digging ditches. When everyone has money to spend, a service economy pops up to take their money (Bakeries, Whorehouses, Taverns, etc.). Since these business are on my land, I can tax them giving me more money to pay my workers and soldiers who then spend it in town in the same businesses that I can tax again. It works out for everyone involved. Also because everyone is happy with the changes I've made that make them money and improve their lives immediately and clearly, the smallfolk have become more accepting of some of the stranger changes I've introduced. For example, the boiled water law doesn't have to be enforced anymore and most of the smallfolk are completing their weekly longbow practice, people just accept it as a quirk of their Lord and do it without being forced to._

 _What surprises me the most is that my developments aren't spreading outside my lands. Everyone who is truly interested has moved to my lands. While other Lords and ladies are happy to do business with me but they are keen to keep any advancements and the social changes they bring contained. Fine by me, I don't want them to try to keep up with me anyway. The more I can open the gap between myself and my competitors before they catch on, the better._

* * *

 _Journal Entry (October 294)_

 _I'm a terrible at diplomacy by mail, I've made a few friends abroad (like the Lannisters and Tyrells) which of course has only made things more complicated. Most of the people who I'm working with hate each other (like the Lannisters and the Tyrells). It's time to go meet the major players in person._

 _It's time to go to King's Landing._

* * *

November 294

Almost every single character in the books complained about how bad King's Landing smelled but no amount of warning could ever prepare someone for the horrific truth. Lord Hunter Whent cursed the weak stomach his 21st century upbringing gave him for the millionth time since arriving as he leaned over to avoid vomiting on his horse upon coming across a ditch in Flea Bottom in use as an open sewer. "Mhm" he growled as he wiped his mouth. "how much further to the Red Keep?" he asked the captain of his guard.

Captain Grimsby, resplendent in his black and yellow plate sidled up alongside his liege on horseback and playfully clapped him on the back. Affecting an overly serious tone he said "My Lord, we've been here naught 5 minutes, it'll be a long while before we reach our destination. I'm afraid it'll be more of this for miles on end."

"Grimsby" Hunter warned.

The younger Grimsby in Whent service had the decency to look sheepish over his ill received levity. "20 minutes" he shrugged.

Hunter sighed and kicked his horse back into motion, resigned to a miserable passage through the city. Captain Grimsby was endemic of one of his most frustrating issues. Even the competent and trustworthy people he worked with treated him like a boy rather than a man. A phenomenally lucky and abnormally capable boy but a boy nonetheless. The circle of people that realized that he was closer to 30 than the 16 he appeared to be consisted of a total of four people.

It was lonely.

20 odd minutes later, Hunter found himself being conducted into the throne room of the keep while his people went about the business associated with arriving in a new place.

Though he was dressed as stylishly as anyone else in the colors of his house, he still felt profoundly uncomfortable. He understood the evil, both past and future, of this great room and the terrible throne he approached and it was all he could do to keep a neutral face as he approached the King. He felt the eyes of all the Lords, ladies, courtiers and servants dig into him, probing for secrets and weakness. Vipers, murderers, spies. Enemies, one and all. "Know thy enemy" Sun Tzu said. Well he knew their faces now and soon he'd know more.

Their appearance was startlingly alike that of the actors portraying them on the show. In fact, add a few years and Robert and Cersei Baratheon would look exactly like their respective actors. Meeting someone in person made a difference though. King Robert was far less impressive than even on the TV show. Fat of course, but he slumped into his chair in a deeply apathetic manner and he could be smelled from across the room. Queen Cersei though made for a stunning and queenly figure that sent the hormones rushing through his teenage body. Being in her presence for the first time made him wish for a brief moment that he was blonde and insufferable enough to attract her…attention.

That last thought put a small smile on his face as he reached the bottom of the throne dais and dropped to his knee. After an uncomfortably long time, he finally heard Lena Headey's voice address him with a waspish tone. "Lord Whent, so good of you to finally come to the capital to swear fealty to your King in person."

"Well there went that fantasy" Hunter thought to himself in irritation as he raised his head. He was somewhat mollified when he immediately realized that the Queen was furious with her silent and absentminded husband rather than himself. Though a man sat upon the Iron Throne, it became more and more clear as the silence dragged on once again, that today Westeros had no King to rule it. In the hopes of engaging the King and gaining some small form of initiative, Hunter immediately began his oaths. "I Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal do swear my fealty to Robert Baratheon, First of His Name, King of th…"

"I accept," the King said distractedly then "I am done for today".

The whole throne room seemed startled as the King abrubtly stood and left the room, Kingsguard trailing behind him. "Somethings wrong" Hunter thought to himself as he watched a scrawny blonde boy scurry to pick up the cloak Robert had absentmindedly let slip to the floor, Lancel Lannister in all likelihood. "If the whole court is revealing how startled they are by this then something very wrong". "Probably my fault" he muttered to himself "every other damn thing seems to be."

* * *

 _Journal Entry (November 294)_

 _It's my fault. It turns out that my dear Lord Tully has been raising far more hell abroad than my agents have reported (time to get better agents). Between that and the trade conflicts I have created by associating myself with the Lannisters and Tyrells, I have created endless headache for King Robert. All of the "Let me help you be better than the Targaryens in peace" sentiments can't make up for nearly half of the Lord Paramounts in the Seven Kingdoms fighting over me. In addition, my meetings have been profoundly unhelpful. I met very briefly with Queen Cersei where she informed me that she was "confident that Harrenhal's Lord will make the correct choices". Because the Tyrell representative meant to meet me had left unexpectedly just before my arrival, I had to request a meeting with Renly which boiled down to "I don't know what you are talking about. I certainly do not represent Tyrell interests." Ass._

 _I can't talk to the Lannisters, the Baratheons, the Tyrells and I refuse to speak with the Tullys at the moment. Thankfully because the show added in the scene where Varys explains why he hates magic so much I know not to trust him. That leaves one man in the capital to visit who can get things done._

 _Petyr "I cause every problem in this world" fucking Baelish._

 _I have clearly lost my mind._

* * *

November 294

The sights along the way to Baelish's office in on the top floor of his brothel were extraordinary, the smells far less so. Hunter didn't even pretend to blame his reaction on his teenage body, he knew he would every bit as excited if he was in his original body. Instead, he tried to think constantly about the exotic medieval STD's were probably infecting everyone in the building besides him. It was hard enough to do that with maids and maidens at home when they tried to catch his attention with, less than subtle means. Here it was a Sisyphean ordeal.

When he finally reached Baelish's office, he found the another nearly naked woman lounging on a plush, purple divan on the far side of the room. "Red hair, well rounded curves and legs for miles" Hunter thought to himself "Baelish knows everything about everyone doesn't he?" The office itself matched what he remembered from the show, luxurious, even over indulgent furnishings and decorations belied the efficiency and purpose built into the design of the room. Sitting behind the desk in featured in the center of the room was the Puppet Master himself.

"Welcome Lord Whent, please have a seat." Baelish invited grandly. Gesturing to the woman who began to rise "Can I have Annyte bring you any refreshments? Wine perhaps?"

"A glass of wine would be lovely" Hunter said, seating himself. Oddly enough, the satisfaction of finally meeting the true villain behind so much of Westeros's coming pain made it easy to act relaxed. He allowed a small smile onto his face.

Then Petyr Baelish smiled again and every part of Hunter began screaming at him to cut his throat and run to the farthest corner of the world. "I hear you've been having some business trouble. Have you come to forget your worldly worries?" Baelish asked casually "You will find no establishment better than mine, and I think you'll find none better equipped than dear Annyte here.

Hunter was suddenly grateful to have the very beautiful lady distract him from his business dealings while he collected himself. Intently focusing on the beauty pouring him wine, he managed to pass off "P-perhaps later" as lust rather than abject terror.

"Ah well" Baelish replied with grand disappointment. "Then how can a humble business man such as myself help you."

"My agents may have proven myself themselves less than satisfactory lately, but I do know that you are one of if not the most well informed and capable man in King's Landing." Shit, shit, shit, why did he just reveal weakness to Baelish.

"My Lord, I am the most well informed and capable man in Westeros" came the smug reply. "for instance, I know that you are building your new fortresses in the East of your lands when all of your antagonists are in the West. I know that you are arming your peasants and raising a professional army. I can't help but wonder what a Lord whose enemies are in the West yet has the entirety of his forces deployed east might do next." He paused and spoke the next words carefully. "Expansion perhaps?"

"My priorities are my own" This was a mistake, maybe the biggest he had made since arriving.

"Forgive my curiosity then" Baelish said, clearly satisfied. "Again, what is it you are here for?"

"I need you to introduce me with the decision makers in the Lannister and Tyrell and arrange meetings with them. For the capital of a continent, King's Landing seems devoid of real power at the moment, with a few exceptions of course." Hunter said determined to power through the meeting before truly catastrophic damage could be done.

* * *

 _Journal Entry (December 294)_

 _As soon as Baelish followed through, I left King's Landing and put as many miles between myself and that horrible city as humanly possible. I will be conducting a long tour to both Highgarden and Casterly Rock in order to meet with Willas Tyrell and Kevan Lannister respectively. I guess I don't rank high enough to meet the men in charge. Anywhere is better than King's Landing though. I'll never enter a room alone with Baelish again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Oh well, in a few years I'll be meeting all the Lords Paramount face to face. One way, or another._

 _Journal Entry (May 295)_

 _We made concrete!_

 _We made concrete!_

 _Do you have any idea how freaking amazing that is! Okay so it's not very good yet and we won't be able to mass produce it for years but still, CONCRETE!_

 _My grand tour was a limited success, I managed to calm down all the major belligerents by downplaying my successes and wealth and making vague allusions to closer ties in the future. I think I bought myself another year or two which is huge. I had to fend off marriage offers every place I stopped however. I may not be worth a Lord Paramount's time but they sure are determined to wed me to their least important daughters. Not that it wasn't flattering. Or painfully tempting. I have bigger plans though and until condoms are a thing here I can't bring myself to take advantage of all the opportunities a wealthy lord has in this world._

 _When I returned, I was delighted to watch a field exercise of the 1_ _st_ _Dragoons, the 50man unit led by my drunk Dothraki bloodrider Kalgo were a sight to behold, sort of. Even on horseback, they can disappear into forest or brush with equal ease and they are equally comfortable putting an arrow in a target at great speed from horseback or slitting a man's throat at night before burning his camp. Upon completion of the exercises, I immediately commissioned the existing Dragoons to train another 100 more soldiers for their unit._

 _On the other hand, my peasant longbow men are mediocre at best. For the price it takes to equip them, I would prefer to see much more progress at this point but I try to remind myself that there is still time._

* * *

 _Journal Entry (June 295)_

 _Discovered that many valuable tools, armor and weapons were disappearing from my National Guard armories. I sent the Dragoons out to deal with it._

 _I have all my supplies back but fewer smallfolk._

* * *

 **July 295**

 **My dear Lord Whent**

 **I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I found our meeting most profitable and was disappointed that I never heard from you again. I must say, I've heard some awful rumors about you in court. Rest assured though, I defended your good name as I defend the good names of all my business partners. After all, it would be a shame to see such a promising lord fall afoul of his numerous and large neighbors.**

 **I must admit I hate to discuss business in a personal correspondence between two friends but I have a favor to ask of you. You see, I have a caravan carrying goods Northwards and I was hoping you could take care of them as well as you would me.**

 **Your friend,**

 **Lord Petyr Baelish of the Fingers.**

* * *

 _Journal Entry (October 295)_

 _I want to vow that Baelish will suffer greatly but I'm convinced the smart plan is to just cut his throat when I get the chance without anything fancy. That is if I don't get killed first. I've been learning how to fight when I can fit in the time but I won't be a warrior prince cutting my way through songs with sword and axe. My time is better spent managing my lands rather than learning how to be a great warrior_

* * *

 _Journal Entry (November 295)_

 _I miss the Internet_

* * *

 _Journal Entry (April 296)_

 _Two years, in two years I am going to let a lot of people die. Then I am going to kill a lot more. Its… sobering. I find myself looking back on the life I had before entering this mad world and I realize I don't remember the man I used to be. The knowledge is still with me but the life is gone. I was Hunter something from a city called Seattle and I had a family, friends, a career, all gone. As Cortez burned the ships behind his men when he landed in the new world I too have lost the way home._

 _I am Lord Hunter Whent now and there is no retreat, only victory or death._


	3. Chapter 3: Top Secret

**I made it to the beginning of the first book so things are going to change a bit. Things will slow down starting next chapter and we will spend far more time in real-time scene play and less time in journals and letters. They won't go away though.**

 **Enough of me talking though, enjoy.**

An American in Westeros

Chapter 3

Top Secret

 **Harrenhal Order of Battle**

1\. 1st Infantry Division (Commanded by Lorde General Willas Wode)

a. 1st Battalion (Colonel Xhar) (Big Red One)

i. Headquartered in the Star Fort

1\. 5 Companies of 200 Heavy Infantrymen

a. 1st company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Jarvas Cantrill)

b. 2nd company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Gregor Clarick)

c. 3rd company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Dannys Shield)

d. 4th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Grenn Frey)

e. 5th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Artor Yelshire)

2\. 3 Support Companies

a. 1st supply company (200 men and women) (Lieutenant Preytan Goodbrother)

b. 1st engineer company (100 men and women) (Lieutenant Elmar Cuy)

c. 1st Longbowmen (200 Archers) (Lieutenant Narmen Baytes)

b. 2nd Battalion (Battleaxe) (Colonel Jaremy Prester)

i. Headquartered in Eagles Reach

1\. 5 Companies of 200 Heavy Infantrymen

a. 6th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Dorin Bole)

b. 7th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Alavin Fyshe)

c. 8th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Harald Fender)

d. 9th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Bronden Phyre)

e. 10th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Lawsen Sarsfield)

2\. 3 Support Companies

a. 2nd supply company (200 men and women) (Lieutenant Nimue Alban)

b. 2nd engineer company (100 men and women) (Lieutenant Saloman Darklyn)

c. 2nd Longbowmen (200 Archers) (Lieutenant Crodell Barler)

c. 3rd Battalion (Trident) (Colonel Tom Azlan) (Reserve)

i. Headquartered in the Star Fort

1\. 5 Companies of 200 Heavy Infantrymen

a. 11th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Sulvan Tiren)

b. 12th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Tirius Bulwer)

c. 13th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Marthew Krey)

d. 14th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Braddish Stanlire)

e. 15th company (200 Heavy Infantrymen) (Captain Jullon Vypren)

2\. 3 Support Companies

a. 3rdsupply company (200 men and women) (Lieutenant Chandren Barner)

b. 3rd engineer company (100 men and women) (Lieutenant Evin Saller)

c. 3rd Longbowmen (200 Archers) (Lieutenant Karrem Rok)

d. 1st Dragoons (Screaming Eagles) (Colonel Kalgo)

i. Headquartered in Eagle's Reach

1\. 2 Companies of Horse

a. 1st company (125 Light Horsemen) (Major Cryus Borrell)

b. 2nd company (125 Light Horsemen) (Major Colin Grimsby)

e. 1st Field Artillery company (Thunder on Demand) (Major Cyrus Haigh)

i. Headquartered in Eagle's Reach

1\. 1st Battery (2 Trebuchet, 4 Balista) (Warrant Officer Janas Spyre)

2\. 2nd Battery (2 Trebuchet, 4 Balista) (Warrant Officer Hectar Haigh)

3\. 3rd Battery (2 Trebuchet, 4 Balista) (Warrant Officer Niclas Porter)

Heavy Infantry Company

A Harrenhal heavy infantry company is comprised of 200 combat ready men. Each man wears a reinforced steel Brigandine providing far more protection than the leather armor so common among their peers. They carry a large, rectangular shaped shield capable of providing great coverage, particularly in Testudo formation. Their primary armament consists of throwing spear for disrupting enemy charges, a short spear for thrusting and formation fighting and a short sword for personal fighting. Each heavy infantryman is a professional soldier whether they are a member of the reserves or not, and they are held to the highest physical standards.

Supply Company

Simply put, a supply company is a group of what would traditionally be called camp followers organized under the command of a junior officer. That is not to say that this is unimportant part of our army. These men and women are responsible for foraging, organizing supply trains and performing the various tasks that keep an army going in the field.

Engineer Company

War is 5% stabbing people, 25% movement and 70% digging/moving/building things. The engineers are the ordinary men and women who dig, build and move things so the professional soldiers can stab people. Underappreciated but well paid, our army couldn't fight without them.

Longbow Men Company

The longbow company is the permanent missile support accompanying Harrenhal fighting units. Each man is equally capable of accurate and rapid missile support on any battlefield and engaging anyone foolish to think them vulnerable with spear and sword.

Field Artillery Company

Exercises have proven the effectiveness of dedicated artillery units on the field of battle as well as in siege situations. Each battery is as standardized as current technology allows and is manned by professional soldiers. On their own, they are vulnerable and weak but as part of an effective fighting force they are a force multiplier to be reckoned with.

The National Guard

The citizen soldiers that make the defense of our homeland possible. Each volunteer has gone through basic training and is required to attend monthly unit training and yearly multi-unit exercise. Though these men are the closest to the contemporary conscripted armies, they will have a large qualitative advantage over their potential opponents, especially in the beginning before their potential opponents can accumulate experience.

The Smallfolk

The first resort of all our potential enemies is our last but they should not be discounted. Every one of our smallfolk is required to fit in weekly longbow practice. Should they be called up, they can be trained quickly and with our advances in food storage and the surplus we have built up, they can fight for their lord without fear of their family starving while they are away.

The Dragoons

Other lands have knights; we have the Dragoons. Though fewer in number than our potential enemies, they are far superior. Equally comfortable tracking the enemy and cutting their throats in the night and countering a cavalry charge on the open field, the Dragoons will be a nasty surprise to the enemy and a crucial part of our plans.

 _Journal Entry (September 296)_

 _Marriage offers keep coming in and I keep refusing them as politely as I can (we all know how that goes). I have heard a rumor from my (new) agents that I don't like girls (news to me). I know how homosexuality is viewed in this world so I think I'll have to take a mistress and accidentally reveal her existence in a way that everyone hears about. It's hard to tell people that I'm waiting for the War of Five Kings to create a continents worth of wealthy and powerful widows to choose from._

 _Amazingly, Harrenhal is starting to turn a profit. Although I will destroy that profit with further military buildups, it is a sign that if I survive I my future is reasonably assured. Plus I can go to the Iron Bank and the Lannister's and all my other trading partners and show them my finances to build confidence abroad. Most importantly, I've been able to show my finances to Hoster Tully and put a lid on any adventurous or vengeful actions for the time being. It turns out that if you make more money for your boss than anyone else, they can get past their deep and personal hatred for you at least temporarily. That's great because at the end of temporarily, Hoster is going to die of old age solving a lot of my problems._

* * *

 **October 296**

 **Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Lord Paramount of the North, Warden of the North**

 **We have not had occasion to either do business or meet in person so I must conclude that my reputation as... undiplomatic has proceeded me. You yourself have a reputation as fair, direct and honorable so all I ask is that you use your own judgement rather than relying on the opinions of your peers. Both our realms can benefit from a relationship.**

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

 **Lord Whent**

 **You are correct in your assumptions that your reputation abroad is far from exemplary. As of this moment, the North has no need for further business relationship however the next time that I go south, I will make an effort to meet you in person and make my own judgement.**

 **Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell,**

 **Lord Paramount of the North,**

 **Warden of the North**

* * *

 _Journal Entry (October 296)_

 _SCORE!_

* * *

December 296

It was Christmas Eve and the only Christian in the whole world drank alone in his office. Across the walls, sketches of ideas and designs from a world half-forgotten stood as anchors to the life Lord Hunter Whent had left behind. While they brought hope and progress most days, on this day they brought only pain. It was like this every year, servants sent away with the day off, the manse empty and the lord of the lands left alone in an empty home with a bottle and bitterness. It was accepted as just one more quirk of a brilliant young mind by those who surrounded him from day to day.

Finally, the hearth fire died down. Too apathetic to restart it, Hunter began to wander. After a tour of the cold, empty manse and a second bottle, he suddenly became aware that he had made his way several miles down the road. Through the growing headache he looked around and found that he had picked up a quartet of House Guards along the way. The road was 10 feet wide and made of concrete. Surrounding it was a reasonably thick forest of oak and ash trees. "We've been out a long time if night's fallen already" Hunter said to his guards while taking in his surroundings. "Thanks for sticking with me".

"It's morning sir, we are the second shift." The guard with the bushiest and grayest mustache replied. "You've been walking all night. We were worried but you were quite insistent."

Startled, Hunter realized that the sun was indeed rising rather than falling as he initially thought. Readjusting, he tried to get his bearings. A single dirt path branched off the main road directly at his feet into the forest. Not one to question fate at this point Hunter started down the dirt path, motioning to the guards to follow him. The path led deeper and deeper into the forest which became thicker and thicker to point of being impenetrable. The sounds of wildlife filled the early morning air. Birdsong, leaves rustling under footsteps, the call of a deer all sounded around the small party seeming to signal civilizations outer limits. The ancient world closed in on them with less and less sunlight more and more over the next hour only to surrender rather suddenly to a large clearing. Within the clearing was a small wooden farmstead with a thin stream of smoke trailing from the chimney. Surrounding it were several interlocking animal pens containing pigs and cattle only some of which were beginning to seek out breakfast.

As Hunter approached, a grey woman exited the only door, stooped over what appeared to be a rusty shovel. "Who goes there?" she rasped clearly having trouble making out the approaching visitors.

"I'm afraid we're a bit lost" Hunter said while signaling his men to hold with his hand. Do you know which way to town". He already knew the answer but he wanted something innocent to reassure the woman.

Clearly it worked as she lost some of the defensiveness in her posture. "Oh" she said with a sigh that spoke of a thousand lifetimes worth of trials and bittersweet memories. "That way" she said as she pointed.

"Thank you" Hunter replied. He and his men turned and began to leave when a thought occurred to him. "Do you need help? It looks like any shovel work would be best handed off to a field hand.

Immediately she regained a great deal of defensiveness. "You volunteering to dig up a boulder?"

He thought about it. A boulder could take an hour or all day to remove from the ground with five able bodied men and he didn't really want to do physical labor at the moment. "What the hell, its Christmas" he muttered to himself. "If you'll have us!" Hunter replied.

From then on, every December 25th Hunter could be found wandering amongst his people offering his services. It became known as Labors Day and only added one more facet to the ever changing and contradictory reputation of Lord Hunter Whent.

* * *

 _Journal Entry (March 297)_

 _We have a serious surplus of food developing. Nobody but myself and Harry Bracken understands how large it's going to become and I intend to see it stays with that way. With everyone (including my "ahem" allies the Lannister's) about to try to starve everyone else, being able to feed my people and others (for a price) will be key._

 _I took a tour of the nearly completed Eagle's Reach. Its impressive._

 _The Fortress sits upon bluff a quarter mile from the Kingsroad and can be only be accessed from the farthest side as the side facing the road is incredibly sheer. The fortress itself consists of two concentric walls with a large inner keep. The outer wall has two gatehouses with barbicans extending outwards while the inner wall and the keep only have one major entrance each. At regular intervals along the walls, circular towers rise to provide extra security. I am particularly proud of the rotating mounts for the trebuchets mounted upon the towers providing 360 degree coverage (though I don't expect to be firing into the castle, I'm not a freaking stooge). Within the walls are silos, a pump connecting to an underground aquifer, winding halls and everything necessary to house a great deal of people for an extended period of time. There are several surprises waiting for the attacker unfortunate enough to approach but if everything works out, I'll never have to fight a battle on my own land._

 _Who am I kidding! I am sure that every army in Westeros will be converging on my land even before the White Walkers arrive._

 **August 297**

 **Lord Tully**

 **Bandits have been on the rise on my lands. I fear I am at a loss as to where the ruffians are coming from, have other Riverlords suffered from the same plague? Do you have any information on this issue?**

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

* * *

 **September 297**

 **Lord Whent**

 **You forget yourself, you shall refer to me as Lord Paramount Hoster Tully of the Riverlands. As to your question, the bandit problem is on the rise throughout the area. The problem is not limited to you and as such I have no additional resources to allocate to you. You must deal with this on your own**

 **Lord Paramount Hoster Tully of the Riverlands**

 _Journal Entry (October 297)_

 _The bandit problem is isolated to my lands so clearly Hoster's intelligence is even worse than mine is. Strangely though I'm willing to believe that it isn't him. Despite our animosity, honor is a key part of his self-image. It's a big part of why he accepted my "inheritance" in the first place. Since my neither I nor anyone else I know is reliably successful at being subtle, it's time to be as unsubtle as possible._

 _It's time for some American style police action!_

* * *

 **November 297**

 **Lord Whent**

 **I object in the strongest possible terms to your illegal occupation of Maidenpool! I cannot leave my keep without running into a detachment of your damned Dragoons! Your troops are refusing to let anyone travel without permission and I am hearing about raids in the night! Withdraw at once before I throw you out!**

 **Lord William Mooten of Maidenpool**

* * *

 **Lord Mooten,**

 **The Dragoons are there for your protection. Haven't you heard? There are bandits raping and ravaging in this area. Stay in your castle William, I'll settle this soon.**

 **One way or another.**

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

* * *

 **December 297**

 **Lord Mooten,**

 **Never let it be said that I abandon my allies. Even though we never expected the bastard to act so boldly, we can still prevail. My troops are assembling as we speak. I shall march at the soonest opportunity to help drive the upstart off your land.**

 **Lord Cox of the Saltpans**

* * *

 **Lord Cox**

 **I'm afraid that William is on his way to meet with the King to explain certain recent events, Maidenpool and its associated lands are under my custody now. I'm curious, to which bastard where you referring?**

 **Lord Hunter Whent of** **Harrenhal** **and** **Maidenpool**

* * *

 _Journal Entry (Febuary 298)_

 _This is the year where shit goes down. Between my relatively bloodless (well my side did all the killing at least) occupation of Maidenpool and the Saltpans, I have acquired a port and far more people and resources to manage. The port is critical and the bandit issue has stopped completely now that heir backers have retreated. Hoster was foaming at the mouth over my "Illegal Ocupation" but after I provided evidence of the conspiracy against me and the King came down on my side he couldn't do anything._

 _Unfortunately, I know I didn't get them all, I have evidence incriminating several other lords but I am stretched a lot more thinly than I'm comfortable and I can't occupy more land during peace time. I am going to call up the reserve battalion to and keep them at the Star Fort as a reaction force. 1_ _st_ _and 2_ _nd_ _Battalions of the 1_ _st_ _Infantry Division will be split up into smaller components to provide wide enough coverage. As a trial run for the war to come, this was a success. We identified several strengths and weaknesses to address. Although we will have more manpower when we call up the Guard, the manpower issues are not as severe as they are now it is clear to me that need more professional soldiers. As such I have commissioned the training of another full battalion with the understanding that they won't be ready until after the fighting has already begun. On the plus side, the fact that I have the money to train my troops constantly really shone through. Not only were they unquestionably effective in hunting down the bandits, they were also surprisingly effective in managing occupied lands and presented themselves profesionaly._

 _Between Harrenhal, Maidenpool and the Saltpans, I control over a third of the Riverlands making me essentially Lord Paramount of the Eastern Riverlands though I've learned enough to not go bragging about it to everyone I encounter._

 _Journal Entry (May 298)_

 _I received word of Jon Arryn's untimely demise. The King is on his way North as I write this._

 _War_

 _In the world I came from war something that happened to less fortunate and less civilized people on the news. I played games of war as so many children do, fantasizing over heroism and great deeds without ever understanding what war really was or expecting to participate it. Now I not only have to fight in a war, I have to lead my forces to victory. I don't sleep. I spend my nights endlessly wandering the halls of Eagle's Reach, pouring over maps and rechecking my preparations. Am I ready? Is there something I could have done differently? Months before any physical fighting begins I already find myself fighting to convince myself I haven't already lost._

 _Hey there is still time to find a nice beach in Essos!_

* * *

July 298

King Robert Baratheon felt a mix of exhilaration and uneasiness as he lead the royal procession through the outer barbican of Eagles' Reach. Having skipped the fortress in favor of the Darry's nearby keep on the way North, this was the first time he had seen the handy work of his most newsworthy subject. Its high walls were impressive. The 400 men in identical black and yellow armor arrayed in perfect formation on either side of the parade ground they had entered only more so. Upon seeing him, trumpets and drums in perfect unison launched into song to announce his arrival formally. All 400 soldiers kneeled and cried "long live the King" again and again being joined by what seemed like a thousand more voices from the battlements and the buildings on the second and third time.

He spotted the Young Lord Whent at the head of a party of Thirty or so approaching the Royal Party. "Welcome to my humble home" Lord Whent said, beaming a smile that almost covered how uncomfortable he seemed. As the long process of introductions and greetings played out for the thousandth time, his mind slipped away to another place though he did notice that Whent seemed far more keenly interested in the Starks than anyone else, almost to the point of rudeness. "Well as long as he doesn't get too interested in Starks daughters and cause even more of a problem" was his last thought before he disengaged entirely.

The feast hall resembled greatly the one from the one featured in Harry Potter. Identical really save for the enormous windows. At the head of the hall Lord Hunter Whent entertained the royal family and the Starks while trying push the knowledge of their eventual fates out of his head. He was unsuccessful, everyone was somewhat uncomfortable yet not enough to make a big deal about it. The food was delicious though and everyone stayed through the final course before retiring.

Though failing to get one on one time with either of the elder Starks that evening, Hunter found Not-Maisie Williams sneaking about the castle during his sleepless wanderings. "Why are you sneaking about?" she asked.

A tired grin crossed Hunters face. "I'm not sneaking about; I own this castle. Surely someone told you about the Sleepless Bat Lord? Anyway, why are you sneaking about?

"Why don't you sleep?" she asked, ignoring the question. "Is it the curse of Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal the fortress is gone and the curse with it with any luck." He sighed with exhaustion. "I don't sleep because I'm either working or I'm worrying. The less I work the more I worry."

"Sounds like you're going to either work or worry yourself to death someday." She said with growing concern plain on her face.

"I think I am" Hunter almost whispered to himself. Quickly changing mood, he said "Don't think I haven't noticed you avoiding my question." With another small smile he said "If I promise to give you a guided tour of the fortress tomorrow will you go to bed before you get me in trouble? There's some pretty neat and dangerous things around here."

At the sound of "dangerous", she smiled with him.

The guided tour turned out to be a boon for both Hunter and Arya as the latter introduced the former to her sister, Sansa Stark, before the royal party left. Like everyone else, she shared every physical detail with the actress that portrayed her on the show. She was naive as the character was portrayed and though he was somewhat ashamed of it, Hunter was completely prepared to take advantage of it to the fullest. Building an image as the noble lord was far easier than he had expected. It was an odd mix, the more he left things open the more Sansa filled in the blanks with great and rather flattering detail. There was intelligence in her but it was misdirected for the moment, a trait that would lesson with age he knew. At the end of their discussion, he made an offer of safe haven to both the Stark daughters should the worst occur.

The royal party had departed without Hunter spending any one on one time with Lord Eddard himself. He didn't know what to say to a man riding to his execution.

* * *

 _Journal Entry (August 298)_

 _I received my invitation to the Tourney of the Hand._

 _So our tale begins in earnest._


	4. Chapter 4: The Screaming Eagles

An American in Westeros

An American in Westeros

Chapter 4

The Screaming Eagles

 _Journal Entry (August 298)_

 _I briefly attended the Tourney of the Hand. In truth, I only stayed for a day as my only goal was to meet Joffery Baratheon in person. I had to see the monster himself and when I did, I shudder to think about it. Can no one else see the madness raging in his eyes? I'll be back to Eagle's Reach soon. Next time I return to King's Landing, it'll be with an army._

* * *

September 298

The air in the War Room of Eagle's Reach was hot and stagnant. The late afternoon light filtered through the high windows onto the myriad persons of importance crowding around the forty-foot long map table. Attendants moved groups of small tokens representing soldiers and horses from position to position based on the arguments of the officers and intelligence agents. This process went on for well over an hour before everyone was either satisfied or silent. The picture the map table painted was one of a continent ramping up into a war. The Westerlands were already assembling their banners in response for the capture of Tyrion Lannister and bandits were ravaging the Riverlands in the hundreds and the Riverlords were responding in kind. Reports also indicated that the Ironborn had undergone a secret rebuilding program for their fleet.

"So" Lord Hunter Whent said silencing the room. "we are going to assume that neither side will back down and the Westerlands and Riverlands will go to war. Lord General Wode, extrapolate the consequences if you will."

Willas Wode was very much resembled a palm tree, thin, tall and with a gangly mop of hair at his head. The greying commander bowed deeply and cleared room for his presentation around the table. "My lord, assuming the that the Lannisters and Tullys go to war to at least a limited extent we can expect the North to join in almost immediately. Should Lord Stark bring his army south we can expect a combined force of somewhere between 20,000 and 25,000, more if they get serious about going on the offensive or should we chose to join the fight."

"Are we considering not joining our liege lord?" the young Captain Grimsby asked both alarmed and indignant. "How can we claim to be honorable and not aid our liege in his time of need?!"

All eyes turned to Whent. After a moment of silence, he said evenly "for the moment we are considering all possibilities. Please continue Lord General."

Wode nodded and continued on "The Ironborn have recovered from their last misadventure and given Balon Greyjoy's temperament I believe we can reasonably expect them to begin raiding along the Western coast, whether or not they attempt to aid one side or another is a matter I can't speak to. Assuming that the king continues to let this civil war develop without stopping it, we can expect the conflict to spread. With the death of Lord Arryn, the leadership of the Vale is questionable at best and we suspect that they will maintain an isolationist policy if not outright neutrality. Without the Vale, the Northern-River coalition and the Westerlands will be evenly matched enough to prevent a quick victory from either side. After perhaps two or three months of vigorous campaigning with both side trying to achieve a knockout blow, a long stalemate is likely to occur." Wode began moving from the northern end of the table to the southern. "The stalemate is where things get really interesting. Obviously no one can predict the chaos of war with any true accuracy this far out but we can assume a few things. As a stalemate continues, more and more resources will be thrown into the fight and we can expect food to be burned on both sides"

They are already burning resources" Kalgo interrupted in clipped common tongue. The old Dothraki was of medium height and weather beaten to the point where his skin seemed like leather. "these bandits we speak of are Lannister men".

"We suspect so" Wode replied "although we won't know for sure until we actually capture them. After such a long summer, we can expect winter to be approaching within the next year or two and it's going to be a rough one. It will be in the interest of neighboring realms to join the fighting if only to resolve the conflict before all the resources are used up. We don't expect anyone but the Baratheon's to enter in on the northern coalition's side and if they do, the King himself will be forced to be involved, something we are discounting in this scenario. That being the case, it's the Tyrells that will be the deciding factor in the war or rather whether or not Tywin can bribe them into joining him. If they join, the southerners win, if they don't…" He shrugged. "It will take time ready our forces. The final decision doesn't have to be made now but we must be ready either way."

"Agreed" Hunter replied "Call up the National Guard and put everyone on alert. For now, be ready but don't do anything too adventurous. I have a feeling that things are going to change dramatically very soon. Kalgo, Wode , stay with me, the rest of you are dismissed. After the crowd had left, the two men approached him and he said "Kalgo we are actually compeletly sure that the bandits are Lannister, led by the Mountain that Rides even. Their ability to enter our lands and pillage and rape is unacceptable. Take the Dragoons and hunt them down. No survivors. Understand?"

Kalgo just smiled.

* * *

October 298

Ser Gregor Clegane was as happy as a man could be. It happened a lot more these days now that there was a proper war to fight. He was a simple man and he only needed a few simple things to be happy. Beer, a village to burn, a woman trying to resist his advances. As he watched the raging inferno that used to be some no name village he couldn't help but feel as if the world was a brighter place now that he had partaken in all three.

The three hundred riders with him were all carousing about, wandering in this direction or that across the open fields. He wanted to join them in some extra sport but it really was time to get moving to the next village. As he raised his hunting horn to his lips he heard a single horn in the distance. Startled, he turned to the outlines of a large number of riders along the horizon. Then another horn in a different location, then another and then another. The horns were coming from all sides. He blew his own horn and began screaming at his own men to assemble into formation. Though he screamed and threatened his men as madly and angrily as he could, inwardly he was thrilled. There was more killing to do.

Kalgo led the better part of 150 Dragoons at a steady canter across the open fields directly at the "Bandits". The bandits were in fact very heavily armed and armored from what he could tell. He raised his horn again and blew another deep call to be answered repeatedly by the tree riders he had sent ahead to confuse the enemy.

The enemy eventually formed up into a rough V formation as Kalgo's riders closed the distance to 600 or so yards. With spear and sword, the bandits began to increase speed at a rapid rate. Across the dusty and hot field, the two Calvary forces closed the distance and began to charge.

With the sound of thundering hooves drowning out anything but the beating of his own heart Gregor Clegane lost himself in the thrill of the charge. His heavy cavalry outnumbered the dumb fools approaching and nothing save a wall of pikes could stop a heavy cavalry charge. It would be a bloodbath.

Kalgo knew the power of a heavy cavalry charge as well so he did something his foe could not.

He turned.

As the Mountain's heavy horsemen charged in a relatively straight line, the Dragoons wheeled around the sides of the incoming formation. Every one of them drew their short bows and began firing into the flanks of the formation specifically targeting the horses. Though their short bows were unreliable at penetrating heavy armor, a rider in full armor that had his horse killed at full gallop was unlikely to survive and those few who did could be dealt with. As they bounded in circles around the bandit formation, their arrows began to take their toll. A dozen bandits fell then a dozen more. The mountain's men tried desperately to slow down enough to maneuver even as the screams of their comrades and horses began to fill their ears and the smell of blood filled the air.

Eventually the bandits managed to turn and engage but the Dragoons were already among them, weaving in and out of the bandit formation slaying nearly at will. A few of the bandits carried bows of their own and chose to throw their spears but the meager casualties they inflicted were too little too late.

Kalgo himself threaded his way through the bandit formation hunting for the Mountain. He paused to shove his sword in a particularly smelly man's throat. All around him the battle was disintegrating into a slaughter as the Dragoons carried out their "no survivors" order. Then he saw the Mountain. Clegane had four or five arrows sticking out of him and was surrounded by the bodies of several Dragoons. Screaming a Dothraki duel challenge, Kalgo charge the mountain at full speed, red filling his vision. Hearing the challenge, the mountain whipped around with a speed Kalgo would of thought impossible. Then suddenly Kalgo never thought anything again.

* * *

 **November 298**

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

 **With the death of the traitor Eddard Stark, I have revealed several conspiracies of the worst kind against me. Your King demands that you take up arms to defend him!**

 **King Joffery Baratheon of the Andals and the First Men,**

 **Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,**

 **Protector of the Realm**

* * *

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

 **To my great sadness, I have discovered that my late brother has left no legitimate heirs to the throne as Joffery Waters is a bastard. The Tyrells and most of the Stormlands have taken up my bid for the Iron Throne. Surely I can count you as an ally in this.**

 **King Renly Baratheon.**

* * *

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

 **My brother is dead and he has left no legitimate heirs as proven by the evidence enclosed. I command you to defend your true King.**

 **King Stannis Baratheon of the Andals and the First Men,**

 **Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,**

 **Protector of the Realm**

* * *

 **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**

 **I am glad to see that you are taking the defense of the Riverlands seriously. The destruction of the bandits was masterfully done. Now I command you to swear allegiance to Robb Stark the new King in the North and your new liege.**

 **Lord Paramount Hoster Tully of the Riverlands**

* * *

November 298

Eagle's Reach was a whirlwind of activity. News of Lord Hand Eddard Stark's death had arrived on the same day that the Dragoons had returned less thirty of their number and their leader. Though news of the bandit leader's escape was far from welcome, it seemed to only increase the frantic pace of activity. The people of the Eastern Riverlands knew that a war was upon them. The Castle forge bellowed smoke day and night as the smallfolk rushed to bring their crops into the protected silos. Upon the parade ground hundreds, sometimes thousands of National Guardsmen drilled with their professional counterparts before being deployed to locations farther afield. Thousands went about the business of war day in and day out around every part of the fortress and every one of them was asking the same question. "who will we be fighting?".

It was a question that only Lord Whent and Lord General Wode knew and they weren't telling. It to Hunter that every day he got a new letter demanding he join the writers forces. Amazingly enough everyone seemed to be convinced that he was on their side. It meant that every group but one would feel betrayed when he made his move. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Unfortunately, the Night's Watch caravan he had been expecting with Arya Stark never showed up. He feared that they had already been intercepted by the gold cloaks. Hopefully she wouldn't use her soon to be assassin skills on him in the future. Although the news was still spreading across the continent, the inescapable fact that was that the war had well and truly begun.

* * *

December 298

In the heart of the Tyrell war host's camp, self-proclaimed Renly Baratheon luxuriated in a deep and hot tub as his bodyguard and lover Loras Tyrell massaged his shoulders. "You have to let me go ahead" Loras pleaded "If you keep going so slowly towards King's Landing, the war will be over before you get there and it won't matter how Kingly you appear"

"You want to take a fifth of my army and leave me all alone at night" Renly replied softly, his eyes still closed. "Why would I allow that?"

"You will still have almost 80,000 soldiers with you still. I can ride ahead with 20,000 and ride North to Eagle's Reach, Whent has always been our friend and with his forces, we can lay siege to King's Landing. When you finally arrive at the capitol, it will be ready for you to practically walk in and take the place." Loras said

"Mhm, sounds promising but I think you need to do a lot more convincing" Renly said as he pulled Loras into the tub.

* * *

December 298

The comfortable furnishings and delicious wine of the small council room quickly faded to the back of Tyrion Lannisters mind as he came to fully understand how completely his sister and nephew had fucked them all over. "…And not only this business with the Starks, you're telling me that Father managed to misplace Ser Gregor Clegane? Is there anything else?"

Cersei Lannister, growing fiercer with every sentence replied "Loras Tyrell has broken off from the main Tyrell host and advances east with all speed. It appears that he is making a dash around us. The Spider says he hopes to recruit Lord Whent and his forces to Renly's cause before encircling us and laying siege."

Tyrion paused to consider this, brough furrowed in deep thought. After what she considered an insufferably long period of time, Cersei interrupted. "Well what are you thinking?"

"I need parchment and ink" He said "All may not be lost. "Lord Whent has ever been our friend."

* * *

January 299

"Shit"

Though Hunter was grateful for the Lannisters warning and he found the offer implicit in the letter enticing, the fact that Loras was heading straight for him was deeply troubling. Assembled in the War Room as they so often were these days, Hunter and his officers poured over the map table.

"An army is at our doorstep my lord." Lord General Wode said. "Now that we know that Loras's army is coming here first before King's Landing, you must choose a side in this war. Do we throw open our gates and welcome the Tyrells or do we face them as enemies?"

Things were spiraling out of the pre-ordained path set by the show but Hunter couldn't let himself be paralyzed by fear even if most of his professional soldiers were away. After a long silence, Hunter said "Sound the evacuation of all smallfolk in potential paths of the advancing army. Raise the levies and prepare for a siege. If he's so confident, he can walk in and collect Eagle's Reach along on his way to the capitol like some trinket he is going to be sorely mistaken. Send out the Dragoons, I don't want that army to get a moments sleep so long as they are in my land." As he continued to give orders a signal bell began to ring at the top off the keep sending a message in Morse code. As the day went on, relay bells carried the message across the Eastern Riverlands.

As the Tyrell army approached they would find a prepared and hostile land before them. This would either be the National Guard's finest hour or its last.

* * *

January 299

The seventh night of the Tyrell army's encroachment into the Eastern Riverlands was much like the first six. Terrified sentries were forced into position by their comrades, horsemen ranged out on scouting patrols in great force and those who could tried to get a few hours of sleep in the brightly lit camp. Spaced closely together were great bonfires meant to beat back the night and the nightmares it harbored.

It was all in vain. Most of the patrols disappeared, never to be heard from again. Somehow the sentries in even the most well-lit areas had their throats cut and fires were set amongst the camp. In the morning, soldiers checked all the supplies finding several stocks of food poisoned, having learned the hard way after the first morning. There stocks could not be replaced by foraging for the villages and towns in their path had been completely emptied. No food, no people, no animals either.

As dawn rose, Loras Tyrell began to organize his forces in order to continue their march. He was in a foul mood having not found any real sleep for the past seven days. In fact, Loras Tyrell was in a towering rage. The only thing that enabled him to sooth his rage enough to function was the knowledge that today was the day he would reach Eagle's Reach and bring the traitor Whent to justice.

* * *

As dawn rose over Eagle's Reach, life went on for the thousands of souls sequestered within its walls. One of souls in particular, Lord Hunter Whent toured the outer curtain wall of the fortress. The soldiers upon the wall were used to seeing their lord by now having earned the reputation of "The Sleepless Bat Lord" and "The Sleepless Eagle". The fortress was manned by 6th and 8th Infantry companies from the 2nd Battalion of the 1st Infantry Division. Another 1500 National Guardsmen joined their fulltime brethren. Lighter armed and armored but no less motivated than their professional counterparts, they filled the concentric walls and the keep. In addition, almost all of the smallfolk sheltering within the walls were trained in the longbow and many had been selected to man the walls when the time came.

The fortress itself sat upon a large hill a quarter mile from the Kingsroad. The keep was sited along the sheer face of the hill that faced the road. Around the keep, two concentric walls spread outwards down the single side of the hill that was accessible allowing bowmen on the naturally higher inner wall and keep to fire down upon the lower sections. Rising out of the walls were circular towers that could be barricaded from the inside that housed its garrison and ammunition for the trebuchet mounted on a rotatable dais on the roof. Barbicans extended from the gatehouses on the walls and the keep.

The garrison was ready, they had drilled on all possible scenarios, night and day. They were armed and armored and had plenty of ammunition. They knew that today was to be the day from the daily riders that kept them informed of the Tyrell army's progress. All there was left to do was kill the remaining time. Some drank, some practiced, some whored. Hunter watched from the walls, ever vigilant for the enemy.

* * *

After a hellish day's march through a trap infested section of road, Loras Tyrell finally saw Eagle's Reach before him. Both he and his men felt relieved to finally reached their destination. He gave orders to start creating siege lines and instruments while he set out to meet with Whent.

The traitorous fucker refused to leave the range of the archers on his walls. "Loras Tyrell" Whent began "You are illegally occupying the Eastern Riverlands. Remove yourself and your men or we will continue butcher you, we will drive you before us and listen to lamentations of your women as we burn your corpses."

That only infuriated the 17-year-old Loras even more. "You fucker!" Loras practically screamed. "We came here as allies! We came here to get your help for King Renly!"

A smug expression came across Lord Whent's face "Renly is so far down the chain of succession that it's hilarious. Even if King Robert's children are illegitimate, which you have yet to come even remotely close to proving, Stannis would be the king. Either way you are upstart rebels without any real claim on the throne or hopes for success."

Any further thoughts of negotiation or diplomacy promptly fled the Highgarden teenage general's head. "You have no honor!" he accused.

Whent's smug smile only grew broader. "No, but I bet everyone in your army is extremely honorable." He paused "How has that helped you sleep at night lately?"

Loras practically went into a blood rage "You evil monster, I will destroy you! Prepare yourself for death. We assault at dawn tomorrow and I will come for your head myself!"

Turning promptly to leave, Loras didn't get to hear Lord Whent say to his aide "That went well, rotate the men and make sure everyone gets a hot meal and a few hours' sleep."

* * *

Work on assault ladders carried on through the night in the Tyrell camp even as Loras's commanders tried to talk him out of an immediate assault. Loras would have none of it though, he insisted that the assault would continue as declared. His honor was at stake.

Within Eagle's Reach, everyone got what passed for a goodnight's sleep while under siege, even the infamously sleepless lord. An hour before the appointed moment, all the defenders of the fortress crept into position with cloth padding their armor and weapons from making noise. Having practiced many times in the past week, they were able to maneuver into positon in the nearly moonless night without much fuss.

Lord Hunter Whent stood upon the observation tower at the zenith of the keep. Watching as the Tyrell forces tried and failed to maneuver their assault ladders into position in secret. "Are the men in position?" he asked an aide. He got an affirmative. "And they know to target officers and nobility in particular?" another affirmative. He took a deep breath and steeled his soul. "Fell deeds await. Sound the attack"

Over the fortress a flare was launched into the sky with a parachute, lighting up the fading night signaling a day of slaughter. As the Tyrell forces froze like deer in the headlights, almost a thousand bowmen loosed their arrows and stranger and more terrible things took their toll. From the trebuchets came grapeshot. The inch-long lead balls were thrown from the war machines in clusters. As they hissed in over the Tyrell force, they shredded weapon, armor and limbs alike. Ballistae mounted in the guard towers fired pots of bees into cluster of attacking soldiers. Again and again the defenders reaped their bloody toll upon the attackers.

The Tyrell forces advanced only under the vehement cajoling of Loras himself. As they charged up the hill they slipped and tripped over the blood-soaked grass and shredded pieces of corpses. Exhausted from a week of sleepless nights and working through the night it took far longer than it should for them to reach the base of the walls. Battering ram crews entered the barbicans to assault the gates only to find crossbow bolts and boiling oil streaming from murder holes on all sides. The defenders threw barrels full of nails over the side to create giant, crude grenades that caused the unfortunate souls around them to simply disintegrate. Finally, troops began to advance up the few ladders that had made it into position and the most terrible weapons came into play. Two specially picked Harrenhal troopers wearing crude gasmasks mounted the wall and started pumping their makeshift flamethrowers. Dozens of Tyrell men died screaming, consumed by the flames before a hail of crossbow bolts picked off the flame troopers. Still the brave Tyrell soldiers advanced.

Upon the ladders, many soldiers simply fell to their deaths from exhaustion and at the gates they could hardly maneuver their ram, so great was the multitude of their fallen comrades. Again and again they died horrifically and again and again they continued to advance. A reasonable person would have gone home long before this point but there is nothing reasonable about a soldier's life, where one is expected to put a spear in their fellow man's belly and continue to charge onwards unaffected. Finally, a Tyrell soldier reached the top of the battlements, then another, then another. As they finally reached the top of the first curtain, the Tyrell soldiers found themselves confronted with four-man wide shield walls on either side of each ladder. Each time they pressed into the shield walls they would be thrown back as four shield pushed in unison and four spears found their opponents belly.

Down below, as the umpteenth wave of attackers finally broke through the first gates, they were confronted by a hundreds strong shield walls at each gate ready to send them to hell. Then, to the attacker's dismay, the archers on the inner curtain wall began to fire into the battle. It was absolute chaos. The first wall was awash in the blood of both defenders and attackers. The grass of the parade grounds in between the outer and inner walls seemed to be died red. For what seemed like hours the battle raged. From up on his observation tower, Lord Whent barely had time to notice that the sun was reaching its zenith, he was too busy directing the battle. As the number of attackers upon and past the outer wall began to truly outnumber the dwindling attackers, he gave an order and the inner wall trebuchets began to throw barrels of pitch and tar into the attacking army. For a half an hour these barrels filled the air with choking smoke. Upon Hunter's signal a second flare shot up, signaling those waiting in the forests.

Out of the forests the Dragoons came screaming into the rear of the Tyrell army. They burned supplies and tents. They killed at the enemy at will all while continually blowing on their hunting horns. In the smoke, the Dragoons numbers multiplied in the minds of the Tyrell soldiers. In the end it was too much. Between the still untouched inner wall, the unknown numbers attacking the rear, the lack of sleep, the casualties and the fact that the majority of officers and lords had died, the attacking army broke. It started with one man, then two then three. Eventually the Tyrell army began to throw down their arms by the hundreds. After nearly eight hours of fighting, the bloodshed came to a halt.

Loras himself was dragged in front of Lord Whent before the remains of his surrendered army. Loras was gaunt from lack of sleep, dirty and bloody. Lord Whent was as clean and regale, even aloof in his appearance. "Do you surrender?" Lord Whent asked imperiously.

Loras spat "When King Renly hears of this, of the fact that you have captured me he will come here. He will come here with his entire army as fast as the wind to rescue me because he acts as a true King should. Fine, I surrender, enjoy your victory while it lasts."

Lord Whent's smile was as cold as the grave. "Didn't you hear Loras? Renly is dead. Slain by an assassin in the night. If his most trusted bodyguard had been there to defend him your gallant king might still be alive to come to your rescue."

"That's not true! That's impossible!" Loras wailed.

"loras Tyrell, I find you guilty of murder and high treason. You will be held at Eagle's Reach until such time as we can transport you to the capitol for trial and punishment.

As Loras was dragged away screaming in despair, Lord Hunter Whent turned to look at the killing field his lands had become. "Come" he said to his aides "it's time to bury the dead."


	5. Chapter 5: Viper's Nest

_Hey everybody, I just wanted you to know that I am going to shift to a slightly more sane publishing schedule. Any suggestions are welcome and may be incorporated._

An American in Westeros

Chapter 5

Once more into the Vipers nest.

January 299

The dead of Eagle's Reach were buried but their presence lingered on. Despite their victory against overwhelming odds, the attacking army had come too close to success for life to return to normal immediately. The outer curtain wall remained stained and scarred by the oil and blood. The smell and damage of the smoke from the tar barrels lingered in even the most sheltered corners. The babble and hum of voices of those within the fortress's walls had yet to return to the boisterous levels of times past. Everywhere one turned there was the haunted face of a widow or orphan. And yet life went on as it had and as it always will. There were always animals to tend, clothes to mend and children to teach. Slowly at first and then with greater and greater speed and confidence, those whom had found shelter within Eagle's Reach began to filter back into the surrounding land. Because there was nothing for the Tyrell army to take, much of the life's they had left behind was restored with great speed. Village's began to bustle with activity, the sound of children's laughter returned to the rolling hills and men began to range out from safety in search of forage and enemies.

Within the dungeons of Eagle's Reach however, life only went downhill for the defeated. The first blow came when they realized that only the nobility was being held captive. The second blow came when they realized how few they were. They quickly came to the conclusion that of the three hundred odd nobility and knights that had started out on their campaign with, only eight had survived to be imprisoned. The shock was so great because the accepted practice was that nobility was to be spared and ransomed whenever possible. They could only conclude that they had been deliberately targeted for death, something that chilled them to the bone. They were not tortured, they were not ill-treated, they were simply left alone to their thoughts and their fears. Jailors were ordered to not speak other than in life threatening circumstances. Without any opening to bribe, plead or negotiate and with no news of the outside world, almost all fell to despair. All save Loras Tyrell for he was already so much farther beyond despair that his mental state could not be reasonably compared to the others. The silence of the guards suited him for all he wanted was to be left alone with his despair.

Across the lands, word spread of the stunning reversal making mighty lords to take notice of the small, forcing them to adjust their plans. Some feared the new variable, some salivated over the possibilities. Only Lord Hunter Whent himself, late of the 21st century, understood how perilously the state of Westeros balanced on a knife edge. He worked tirelessly to pass the time without driving himself insane with worry while waiting upon news from the capitol.

The Tyrell army's remnants had been harassed until well after they had left Harrenhal territory ensuring that it could not reform into a cohesive fighting unit for years to come. The second, larger force had split between those who would follow Stannis in the wake of Renly's death and those who would join the crown and take advantage of the chaos. All of the southern armies clashed in a titanic engagement at the capitol leaving the royalist forces victorious.

Along with the news of the royal victory came a letter inviting Hunter to the capitol to attend the upcoming royal wedding and to be rewarded for his efforts. All according to plan.

* * *

February 299

The stench of King's Landing had grown even worse after the siege. Fortunately, Lord Whent was prepared this time. He rode in astride a great white warhorse, resplendent in his black and yellow doublet with a brilliantly polished sword at his side. Upon his brow was a sun cap that both protected his eyes and hid a small bundle of dried leaves, bark and perfume that blocked his nose with a scent that would be called sandalwood in another world. It proved to be both an effective and wise decision. Despite the horrible sea of humanity, there was hope in the air. Now that the Tyrell's were giving away daily shipments of food, the poorly educated populace of King's Landing felt that the worst was over. "Unlikely" Hunter thought to himself as his guards maintained a perimeter around him by force. "Especially if I have my way".

For his role in reducing the Tyrell army, Hunter was given a rather large and well-furnished room in the Red Keep itself that seemed to be intended for guests of importance. Despite the extra risk it brought, he felt profound satisfaction that the movers and shakers of the world were noticing his rise. Content to let his attendants go about the business of arriving, Hunter flopped on the red sofa on the far side of the room. The royal servants were physically removed from the room under great protestation. Despite whatever insults it would cause, Hunter valued at least the illusion that there were no ears in his room for a brief time far more than he cared for some lord's delicate feelings. There was little time for relaxing however, there was scheming to be done.

* * *

One of Hunter's first meetings was actually an invitation from the legendary Queen of Thorns to join her in the castle gardens for lunch. Upon the way, he encountered Sansa Stark apparently leaving her own meeting with the Tyrell women. "Lord Whent!" she said, startled.

"Lady Stark" He said, not allowing her to get in a word edgewise. "I know your time here has been horrible and I imagine that you must not think well of me or want anything to do with me. You need to understand that things are not what they"

"Not what they seem?" she was clearly both confused and curious.

"No, there are forces a foot that most aren't aware of, least of all here at the capitol. Terrible things are going to happen to you and your family in the future, beyond what already has. Trust no one, especially your friends and you might live long enough to see how far down the rabbit hole goes. But hold on to hope, never lose hope." He walked away, his conscious feeling better after warning Sansa and satisfied that he had been obtuse enough to not give anything important away or alter the future too much.

For her part, Sansa was more confused than anything else.

Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery were awaiting him in the same outdoor pavilion that they had inhabited in seasons 4 and 5 of the show. As Hunter sat down, Lady Olenna dived straight into business. "I would like an explanation as to why Loras is not here at the capitol with his family where he belongs?"

Margaery interrupted to ask "How is my brother, is he safe? Is he well?"

The elder Tyrell quickly silenced the younger with a hard look. "Well?"

Despite expecting it, the arrogance was astounding. He managed to turn his growing anger into a cold trickle until there was a hateful ball of ice in his belly. "He remains at Eagle's reach along with the rest of his "noble" comrades because I have not seen fit to release them yet."

The Queen of Thorns brushed that aside. "Well then you had best see fit immediately before the consequences become intolerable."

He steeled himself "What consequences do you refer to?"

Lady Olenna cocked her head slightly and took the affect of one explaining the immutable facts of life. "Reparations of course, increasing the longer our dear friends and family are kept from us. Official censure and punishment from the king, economic sanctions and the lack of royal protection of course. If all that were not enough to secure the prisoners release, then we would be more than willing to retrieve them by force. It's no secret that Tyrrell forces still outnumber any other force by a huge margin."

Hunter raised a hand "Hold on, you expect me to pay you war reparations?"

Lady Olenna simply nodded.

Hunter leaned forward. "You may have lost the war but it seems as though you fully expect to win the peace."

That brought a grin to the Queen of Thorn's face "I'm glad you understand things so clearly, most young men, and young women, are often so ruled by their emotions. Mhm, "win the peace" I like that, you won't mind if I use it do you?"

Hunter opened his arms and made a gesture of generosity but his eyes were cold as a northern winter. "I fear you have gravely misread the situation at hand my Lady." He finally said

This seemed to amuse Lady Olenna "Oh, please, do enlighten me." She reached for a slice of cheese.

Hunter produced a regal looking document from large pocket "If you think yourselves the only recipient of royal patronage…" He handed the document over "I came here from a personal meeting with our beloved King were he congratulated me for my great victory in defense of the crown. He was greatly entertained when I regaled him with tale after tale of how I slaughtered legions of your men in novel and horrific ways. I presented him with a new type of crossbow that had been used in battle for the first time and he was delighted. He agreed with me that the consequences for an army of rebels that sought to kill a faithful defender of the crown should be severe. As such, he signed a royal remit, consigning all prisoners taken in the battle to my permanent, personal care. Now you may change his mind in time." He motioned towards Margaery "A wife will always have the ear of her husband of course. But it will take a long time, longer than you have if you wish to recover Loras before he withers away" Hunter snickered a bit at his own word play. "And in any case, I doubt that the King will declare war on a loyal subject to recover eight men."

Both ladies gasped. "Eight!" Olenna nearly shouted "Hundreds of the Reach's nobility went off to war with Loras!"

Hunter nodded "Hundreds of the Reach's best and brightest, the next generation of the Reach's leaders, artists and scientists. I killed them all. Only eight currently survive including Loras." He continued "That means that should you wish to recover Loras by force you will need to do it on your own. Your army is what 60,000 strong now?"

Neither Tyrell lady's face revealed anything.

"Let's call it 60,000, it's an easy number. Now, you have your army, though it is large, its fragile. You have suffered a severe loss in leadership, especially with many lords heading home now that the Tyrell rebellion is over. I would guess that you have half the lords and officers that you began with, probably less. With an officer shortage the Tyrell army's efficiency and morale will suffer. Remember their morale is low and fragile already. They've suffered loss after loss in battles where they outnumbered the enemy by ludicrous proportions. The only reason they are holding together now is because most of the fighting is over and they think they are about to go home to collect the last crop before winter. If they suddenly get told that they are being sent into battle against the same foe that crushed them before, they're morale will plummet. No going home, no feeding the family and probable death. Even if your army doesn't start mutinying they will most likely break in their first real battle. To put simply, your army doesn't believe that they can win and if they don't believe it, they can't.

Both the Tyrells moved to talk but once again, Hunter held up his hand for silence. "Now if you can't take Loras by force, you might wish to take him by guile. I gave orders that Loras may never leave Eagle's Reach alive without me there to give the order personally and should I be captured or killed, Highgarden will be reduced to ash."

"Impossible!"

"Did the Lannisters keep track of all the wildfire used in the battle of the Blackwater?" He smiled "It only takes one man with a easily hidden pot to walk in through a servants entrance at night and set fire to the whole castle or city. In addition, your position in King's Landing and at the King's side hang so critically on the fact that you are feeding the entire Crownlands. I have saved a great deal of the Riverland's crop, I in fact have a massive surplus. Anytime I want I can remove the best hook you have in the King and raise myself in his eyes to his most trusted vassal, he migh make me the next Lord Paramount of the Riverlands for doing so. Need I say that at this point I would no longer have any need to keep Loras alive?"

"So" He concluded to the stunned ladies "What are you going to do for me to keep that from happening?"

* * *

 _Journal Entry (February 299)_

 _The capitol maybe a stinking shithole full of murderers, the mad and the oppressively powerful but it sure isn't boring! Now that I have money, a victory under my belt and the King's ear, everybody wants to at least claim that they are my friend (especially the people who hate me) and some of them are genuinely interesting people. The people I was most surprised by were Cersei and Tommen. Tyrion is a joyous bundle of sarcasm and wine of course but his sister is actually really interesting to talk to. Absolutely crazy of course but interesting, I feel like Clarice Starling to her Hannibal Lector when I speak with her._

 _Tommen is a shy boy who won't speak a word unless you can get him to open up. Once you get him to open up its just an endless stream of questions. After a while I managed to find him a book about their version of dinosaurs. Every boy deserves to know about dinosaurs. I've been spending time with him whenever I can, with dear King Joffrey about to bite it, I'm going to have a leg up on all the people who want to get cozy with the new king. It sucks that he is probably going to die as well in a year or two but hey, to be King for a while and his future queen is both brilliant and beautiful, most people die with less._

 _I'm going to stick around in the capitol for a while, everything happening back in Harrenhal is on autopilot as far as I'm concerned. I have to set things up for the next stage of my master (masterful?) plan._

* * *

Tywin's office was efficient, even martial. From the bookshelves to the cabinets and the central desk, every part of the room served an obvious utilitarian purpose. It felt refreshing to deal with a man who held so few illusions. He waited patiently for several minutes as Tywin scratched out the remainder of a letter. Hunter refused to let it seem as though he was bothered. In fact, he wasn't bothered at all but he knew that any sign, good or bad might be interpreted as weakness.

"I thought" Tywin said, drawing out and enunciating each word with excruciating clarity. "That your future stewardship of the Riverlands was more than enough reward for your actions. Was I wrong?" the final three words were clearly intended to say that he was in grave danger if it was not.

"Oh no" Hunter replied, still standing. "No, you and the King have been more than generous to me. I requested a moment of your time to discuss what I can do for you"

Tywin finally looked up, after carefully considering Hunter's appearance and words he pointed at the chair across from him "Sit"

He did so and he immediately took advantage of Tywin's full attention. "The Tyrells are a problem. They hate the both of us and will remove our families from power at the first opportunity"

Tywin was motionless.

Hunter pushed on fearlessly "Lady Olenna even said to my face that even though they had lost the war they were "determined to win the peace" among other, less than friendly things. I believe we can help each other lesson this threat considerably. For starters, I have saved most of the Riverland crop that varying factions had tried to destroy, I can relieve your reliance upon Tyrell handouts.

As Hunter continued to outline the possibilities, he could swear he saw the faintest ghost of a smile appear on

Tywin's face.

* * *

March 299

The royal wedding sprawled out throughout the Red Keep, though the royal party and their select guest celebrated in an exclusive area, the thousands of other guests and servant wandered and mingled almost wherever they wished. It was a political battlefield the likes of which had not been seen in a generation. A smile could be a great victory and a slip on the dance floor could be a defeat one never recovered from. Marriages were decided for the next ten years, a shocking percentage of the nation's GDP changed hands and spies lurked everywhere.

What one wore could heavily influences one's chances in their given task. If one was looking for marriages, they might sew extra jewels into their clothes to advertise a large dowry. Someone gathering intelligence would dress plainly and less expensively so as to not threaten anyone. There were gowns, doublets, caps, feathers, pantaloons and all manner of funny shoes throughout the crowd. Lord Hunter Whent was the only one wearing a tuxedo. The tuxedo had taken a Bravosi seamstress a number of iterations to hone in on Hunter's image. It was cut to fit Hunter precisely, the jacket and pants were black, the undershirt was white and the vest, tie and pocket kerchief were all yellow. The image his bold and unknown dress sent was one of power. Crowds parted before him as he cut his way to the dance floor closest to the royal area. Luckily, he identified his first target quickly.

Mira Forrester was a beautiful 16-year-old girl from an ailing house in the North that had served as Margaery Tyrell's handmaiden since before the war had started. As she was too busy focusing on her own target, her rival Lord Morgryn, Hunter was able to walk up right behind her and tap her on the shoulder before introducing himself. "Lady Mira, I have been looking for you" He motioned to the dance floor "May I have this next dance" Despite clear reluctance, she agreed. The dance was similar to a waltz though the music was far louder. "The dance only lasts so long" Hunter began "So please just listen. You are looking for information on Lord Morgryn. He's building a small army of mercenaries for your rivals the Whitehills. Now I happen to have a vested interest in your family's ironwood. I would be willing to buy a thousand dragons worth of it in advance. You can't spend it if you and your family are dead though so I thought I would recommend a mercenary group called the Ravens who just fulfilled their contract with me. Coincidently, they're retainer fee is a thousand dragons." As the music came to a stop, Hunter cut through the crowd again in search of his next target. Even before the royal wedding was broken up when the King was killed by poison, the balance of power in Westeros had been shifted.


	6. Chapter 6: Changing of the Guard

An American in Westeros

Changing of the Guard

April 299

The death of King Joffrey should have fulfilled every one of Margaery Tyrells wishes. Joffrey had been vain, cruel and stupid. Though she had succeeded upon occasion in influencing him, it was erratic at best. Most of the time he would have already decided what to beforehand and would torture all those around him until they at least pretended to agree with him. The screams of those unfortunate enough to have an opinion of any kind around the king would surely have become hers in time. Some small dispute or disagreement would have led to her ultimate and painful disappearance in the end. Joffrey's young, shy and easily influenced little brother should have been the answer to every one of her wishes yet it was not so.

Everywhere the young King went, Lord Hunter Went accompanied him. Whenever Margaery tried to catch the young King alone his new shadow was there, waiting and advising. The young King and the Sleepless Eagle were inseparable. Who knew what vile rumors he was putting in Tommen's ear, who knew just how Lord Hunter Whent was poisoning the king against all Hunter's opponents.

"Wow…so the Megalodon could swallow whales whole? Tommen asked as he wandered the halls with wide eyes while bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Yah it was the T-Rex or even better, the Spinosaurus of the sea. It was the Apex predator of the sea and the largest dinosaur in the world. It ruled the seas for many years, unfortunately, like the rest of the dinosaurs it no longer roams our world." Hunter replied

"Oh" Tommen sighed. His favorite cat Ser Pounce darted out of the shadows and clambered up onto his shoulder

"Not to worry though" Hunter reassured him. "There are still fantastical creatures out there. Beyond the wall for instance, there are reports of ice spiders as big as hounds, imagine that! And the tigers of Essos! Though they are not dinosaurs, I'm sure that they would survive and even thrive in the world of the dinosaurs!

"Your right!" Tommen said "Do you think I could have a tiger of my own?"

"Sure!" Hunter replied "he or she could play with Ser Pounce perhaps, and you're the King! You don't have to ask me if you want a tiger, just do it."

"A tiger!" Margaery exclaimed as she glided gracefully down the hallway and up to Tommen's side, what a ridiculous notion!" She added intending to be playful but coming off as condescending to Hunter's ears. "Perhaps another house cat would be more appropriate to King's Landing's environment.

Tommen seemed somewhat offended. "If I want a tiger than I can have a tiger, I am the King of Westeros!"

Hunter had to suppress a snicker upon catching a glimpse of Margaery's quickly hidden frown.

April 299

The antechamber of Hunter's apartments was transitioning from a makeshift office into a more permanent wall. Upon the far wall from the entrance, the new sigil showing the opposing Bat and Eagle upon a yellow field of Harrenhal. Within the bats claws was shield and within the claws of the eagle was a spear and between the two creatures lay a bloody rose. In the center of the room was an ornate desk of oak. The rest of the office greatly resembled the other offices Hunter maintained across the land, though the royal patronage he enjoyed resulted in a level of ostentatious ornament that was almost intolerable to Lord Whent.

The ornamentation didn't seem to suit his first guest for the day either but the bloody rose on the sigil did. "That must be a new addition" Oberyn Martell remarked "I haven't seen that on your sigils elsewhere. Daring, especially in this city but very appealing to the discerning eye."

"I thought you might like that" Hunter said "I had thought to add the sigils of my defeated enemies to my own." He paused "…and it might not be so dangerous for long."

"Oh, I thought that the Tyrells were ascendant these days. Most people believe they could be the rulers of Westeros in a generation or two."

Hunter snorted "Most people believe whatever is shouted loudest. The balance of power is shifting, hell it doesn't really exist anymore, the Tyrells may be ascendant but they will only be on top briefly. They and the Lannisters will tear each other apart by the end of winter, sooner I bet."

"Interesting words from the Lannisters miraculous new ally." Oberyn said cautiously.

"Any fool can see it coming. I've been dragged into a war neither side can win. I'm confident I have a way out but for it to work I need you and your brothers help. I'm sending a letter to Dorne and I would like you to ensure it gets its due consideration."

"And what do I get?"

"You get to see me screw over everyone you hate!" Hunter exclaimed, sweeping his arms grandly. Oberyn smiled.

 _Journal Entry (May 299)_

 _Tyrion's trial is set for July. I know he's going to be fine but the thought of whats going to happen to the Red Viper makes me a bit sad. I'll be gone by then though. The compound in the hinterlands of Harrenhal (that's a mouthful!) is producing lots of fun and murderous novelties for my upcoming campaign._

 _Oh, I'm sorry did I forget to mention my upcoming campaign? Tywin failed to mention that with the success of the Red Wedding (BOOOOH!) Walder Frey gets to keep a good chunk of the Riverlands for himself, more than a third actually. Of course that's unacceptable so I simply failed to mention my "peacekeeping" campaign coming up to unify the Riverlands under my rule, and of course the Northern lands bordering mine are rather lawless so I might step in and restore order out of the goodness of my heart._

 _I almost wish Fox news was still around. It might have been crap but at least it was more timely than the rumors I have to deal with hear. "What's happening at the wall?" I ask and I hear stories about freaking mermaids. "What's happening in Slaver's Bay?" I ask and I hear about White Walkers…in the desert…in Essos. It's enough to drive someone mad. My intelligence is slightly more reliable, they're able to rule out the White Walkers in Essos but it's not as much of a step up as even that sounds._

 _Tyrells are happy to have Loras back, they were less happy to pay out the nose for it. They are financing their own downfall, it's so deliciously Machiavellian. I also got further concessions and agreements from them. They are selling their grain at cost to the crown because of the threat that I will flood the markets with my grain and supplant them which further reduces their coffers. They really hate me now, just another good reason to bail out of Kings landing._

 _Still more marriage proposals, they are getting better. God it's hard to resist._

May 299

"We were completely routed from our keep Lord Bolton!" Lord Whitehill nearly blubbered while on his knees before his overlord.

"How?" came the terse question.

"Mercenaries milord, from Essos"

"Mhm, leave us." Roose Bolton commanded.

"But milord!"

Ramsey Bolton glided from the shadows behind Lord Whitehill, announcing his presence to those in the room. "My father asked you to leave." He said calmly

Whitehill cowered in fear but kept enough of his wits about him to quickly retreat from the room. They waited for several tense moments in silence, Winterfell's audience chamber seemed to feel smaller every day. Ramsey spoke first, "He's not the first, money is pouring into the North. Our enemies grow stronger and those undecided are drawn further and further away from us."

Roose continued to think in silence for a long time before speaking. "I am working on several plans to secure our place in the North in the long run. I need you to deal with this in the short term. Follow the money, find its source and cut it"

That got Ramsey excited, he loved hunting.

June 299

"Do you have to go?" Tommen asked with tears in his eyes.

"Yes" Hunter said for the millionth time. "I'll stay in touch" he added, trying to hold in his own emotions. "I'll send you every book on dinosaurs I can find. Goodbye your Grace." At that he turned to Cersei and Tywin.

Cersei was rolling her eyes. Tywin seemed surprisingly content. "Remember our deal". He commanded.

"Of course" Hunter replied and then turned to leave. No sense dragging it out, the die had already been cast. The only thing to do was to roll with it.

 _Journal Entry (August 299)_

 _Repairs are complete on Eagles Reach, my forces are stronger than ever, new tech is coming off the line. It's an exciting time to be alive._

 _Yet I feel more alone than ever here, all my most important allies and associates are abroad securing my rule of the Riverlands and preparing my campaign. I realize that while I began my relationship with Tommen out of manipulative intentions, I really miss him. He was the closest thing I had to a best friend here in Westeros. His was a mind full of wonder, curiosity and acceptance. More than anyone else I've met here, I regret his inevitable death the most. Maybe it's not inevitable though. I'm about to screw up the timeline anyway, why can't I save one wonderful young man out of this terrible world._

 _Speaking of, I'm going to kill Walder and he's just the start, now is the moment to strike. None of them understand it yet but I am going to save this world even if I have to tear it apart to do so. Actually, I'm looking forward to tearing apart the Seven Kingdoms._

November 299

In the Winter of 299 the most audacious military campaign the Riverlands had ever seen was conducted. Lord Hunter Whent took the better part of 1,000 men and simply marched from Eagle's Reach to the Twins, announcing their arrival and intentions to meet with Walder Frey to anyone who had ears and passing out food to anyone who was hungry. Hunter led his small army through endless miles of what was theoretically enemy territory without incident.

The Twins seemed especially bleak in the pale light of the cold, fall morning when Hunter arrived. The stone of the twin towers was eroded and dull. They seemed to have been twisted by the evil that had inhabited them for so long and committed so many foul deeds. A murder of crows stood watch upon the battlements setting the few and motley looking guards patrolling the same battlements even more in his mind as ghouls guarding their masters lair. As his men spread out, Hunter had a troubadour announce his arrival with a horn. All the guards seemed startled, one almost fell off the wall he was dozing on. "Oy, what you cocksuckers want?!" came the voice of the oldest guard. This was starting to feel a bit like a Disney movie, they even talked like evil peons.

"Tell Walder Frey I've come to discuss his surrender!" Hunter replied

"WHAT!" The guard seemed like he had been drinking. From the sway of his body to his slurred speech and poor manners, Hunter guessed his breakfast had consisted solely of mead.

"You heard me!" Hunter shouted "Get Walder, no hurry though I'll be setting up my siege lines while I wait."

"Your what! A siege! Now hang on, you can't set up a siege, we aren't at war or nothen' like that."

"Fine!" Hunter replied over his shoulder as he turned to more immediate work "Then tell him I declare war while you're waking him up."

It took the better part of an hour for Walder Frey to appear upon the battlements. "Lord Whent! Why the Fuck are you laying siege to my keep!" He shouted.

Hunter leisurely walked from his new artillery to comfortable shouting distance. "I'm going to kill you today Walder." He said "do you insist on putting up a fight?"

"Why?!"

Hunter thought about it for a moment. "Because I don't like you!"

"We've never met!"

"You killed your former neighbors and rulers because they wouldn't give you everything you wanted. Did you seriously think anyone was going to tolerate leaving you around to stab them in the back? Face the facts Walder if it wasn't me, whomever else was in charge of the Riverlands would have offed you." Hunter explained

"We can last for months, years if need be!" Walder screamed and spluttered.

"Today" Hunter said with finality, the dreadful consequences of the upcoming battle finally entering his voice. He proceeded to ignore anything else the evil old bastard said. He returned to the command trench they had prepared. His command staff, along with his new master of artillery was waiting for him there. "The cannons are ready" he was informed.

The cannons were as simple as can be. Hunter had only brought the bare concept of a cannon with him and had to rely on minds far greater than his to put them into reality. They were little more than iron tube with flintlock triggers. There was more to it than that but he didn't pretend to understand it. Two batteries were dug in on either side of the command trench and awaiting his signal. Hunter theatrically drew his sword, raised it above his head and slashed it down.

It would have been more poetic if they fired as one but the staggered fire they produced was more damaging on morale, no army in Westeros had ever faced anything like them and the constant stream of cannon fire quickly took its toll on both the walls and their minds. For nearly four hours they tore down the castle spending most of their munitions. Flesh and stone came crashing down with equal ease as in one day Hunter murdered the age of chivalry. The cannons of Harrenhal signaled the inevitable fate of Westeros's nobility though they would not understand it for some time.

When enough munitions were spent, the infantry was sent in to finish things the old fashioned way. For once, Hunter joined his forces in battle, leading the search for the old villain though in truth his many dedicated and skilled bodyguards really led the way. Together they stalked through the halls of the Twins, practically wading through rivers of Frey blood. No one who carried a weapon was spared even in surrender. Those few wise enough to disarm before being found were rounded up and sent to the rear. Hunter found Walder hiding in his chambers with his pants down, a bottle of something foul smelling in his hand and a naked young girl on the floor under him. Clearly he had given up and decided to enjoy his final moments in the least dignified way possible. Before the miserable evil old man could get up Hunter marched up to him and stuck his blade through his belly. Walder gasped and stammered. As he began to beg, Hunter yanked out his blade and with two mighty chops removed Walders head.

"Throw the body in the river" Hunter commanded. He then sat down on a nearby chair and began to shake, almost violently. For all the death he had presided over, organized and commanded, he had never killed with his own hands. Even after all these years, the part of him that had grown up in a safe, 21st century city could not truly handle what he had just done. "Clear the Rest of the keep and then burn it to the ground."

"As you command" an aide said.

The Twins were raised to the ground by midnight as Hunter had promised and the few remaining Freys were forced to forswear their titles and join remote religious orders. The small folk were directed to nearby settlements and given food to sustain them. A small force was left to police the area and manage these affairs but Hunter had left by daybreak, other affairs needed tending to. In one night the Freys had been destroyed for the rest of history and the North had been avenged. Harrenhal and by extension Hunter was the sole power in the Riverlands and his task was far from over.


	7. Chapter 7: Winter Arrives

_Shorter chapter this time around. I am filling into the blank spaces of George R. R. Martin's epic so please assume that anything I did not explicitly change happened as it has on the show._

An American in Westeros

Chapter 7

Winter Arrives

January 300

Hooves thundered all around Sansa as they sought to distance themselves from the inn where they had been recognized. The thick layers of velvet and fur she wore shielded her from the biting cold of twilight. The more than dozen guards around her and her protector, Lord Petyr Baelish scanned the trees around them vigilantly, heads swiveling this way and that. Their hands were always near their swords and Baelish himself was always close by. Her protector was always close, never out of sight. Even when she slept, she felt as if his eyes were upon him. He had saved her on multiple occasions but something about him made her skin crawl. The lady knight who had recognized her in the inn left her with mixed feelings as well. On the one hand, it was comforting to meet someone who seemed loyal for loyalties sake and she seemed trustworthy. Sansa had been hurt too much though for trust to come so quickly and easily and one woman could make little difference.

"Hold!" The lead guard called dragging her out of her thoughts and back to the real world. Before them was an army. Though the forest prevented her from seeing too far down the road, as far as she could see there were soldiers in steel armor and men on horseback, all in the livery of Harrenhal. Several wagons were in sight seeming to indicate that they run into the rear of a marching army. One of the Harrenhal horsemen blew a horn signaling the rest of the army. Petyr quickly advanced to treat with them and with moments, several Harrenhal riders moved to meet him.

Among the Harrenhal riders was Lord Whent "Well this is a coincidence!" Hunter started. "I had planned to leave a few discreet riders with a letter for you Lord Baelish, I'm so glad that I can deliver it in person."

Petyr became even more cautious than usual "And what is the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands doing in the North might I ask?"

Hunter continued on rather jovially "I was securing the Northern Riverlands from bandits, rebels and Ironborn and the like when I got a request from Greywater Watch to help them do the same."

That put Petyr a little more at ease. "I see, congratulations on your appointment by the way. What was the message you wanted to deliver?"

Sansa was even more on edge, Lord Whent had expected to leave riders to find them in the North, clearly their journey was less secret than Baelish had promised.

Lord Whent became more serious. "I wanted to let you to understand that I know everything you did, I know you convinced Lysa Arryn to murder her husband, I know you murdered Joffrey with the help of the Tyrells. I know you framed Lady Sansa and Tyrion so you could convince her to run away with you after she turned you down the first time. I know about every betrayal, every scheme. I want you to understand the totality of your failure before you pay for your crimes."

Petyr's face was one of absolute shock and horror.

"Kill them all" Hunter commanded.

Sansa practically fell off her horse as she dived for cover from the arrows that came streaming out of the forest. The mud was cold upon her face and clung to her clothes. Everyone beside her caught at least two arrows and Baelish took five.

Hunter advanced on Baelish who was bleeding out on the ground. "You are responsible for so much death and suffering, so much of the evil in the world today. I hope you have a long stay in hell. My only regret is to send you there so quickly." With that a rider finished off the dying lord with a quick spear thrust from horseback.

Hunter hopped down from his horse and quickly strode over to Sansa. "Lady Sansa I apologize for such a violent rescue; I had expected it to play out differently."

Sansa took an outstretched hand and rose, shaking with adrenaline. "Rescue! Am I just some prize to be passed back and forth to the latest victor?"

"No" Hunter said solemnly. He turned to his men, clear the bodies from the road and give us some space. "We have much to discuss, please ride with me so I can explain it all." Without much of a choice she did so. As they began to ride down the road towards the front of the army, Hunter dived into the explanation. "Baelish was taking you to Winterfell, to marry into the Boltons"

"What!" she cried with shock "I would never marry one of them!"

"No, you won't. I plan to kill them." Hunter said

That mollified her to some degree. "How did you know? About the marriage, about all of Baelish's schemes?"

"Bear with me here because this takes some adjustment. I had a vision many years ago of what would come to pass. It was only the one vision and it only showed me so much but it not all. It showed me some of the War of Five Kings and what would come after. It showed me Baelish especially, it showed me that despite Joffrey's evil, Baelish was the true root of the suffering so many have endured in the past years. Most of what I saw has already come to pass but it was a warning not a foretelling of the inevitable. I saw you for instance, as a captive of the Bolton's, locked in your chambers for months and raped daily by your husband, Ramsey, the same man who would go on to torture your younger brother Rickon. Now that won't happen."

"Rickon is dead" she replied sadly

"No he and Bran are alive and well, Theon couldn't kill them so he faked their deaths, Arya is alive as well. She is in Bravos now if I'm not mistaken." He continued on and on, explaining why things were the way they were and what would happen next. He spoke for hours as the Army resumed its march and as he did, Sansa became more and more calm, she almost managed to convince herself that she might finally be among friends.

February 300

Ramsey had needed to cut far too many pieces off far too many people to find out what he wanted. He liked the cutting but he hated it when his time was wasted. What was left of Arthur Glenmore was rolled into a ditch while Ramsey pondered what he had learned. Hunter Whent was now the Lord Paramount Riverlands and a close ally of the Lannister's. He couldn't quite understand why one of the Lannister's main pillars was attacking the other pillar but in truth it didn't matter. He knew who his enemies were now, it was time to start planning.

 _Journal Entry (March 300)_

 _I wish I could see Roose Bolton's face when he realizes that his "key to the North" isn't coming. I'll leave that evil bastard alone for the time being but mark my words his days are numbered. I realized that I don't know who is in control of the Vale now, that is a problem. They were such a non-entity in the show that I find it easy to forget that they are there. That is a mistake, they have one of the only untouched armies on the continent and they are my next door neighbors, I need to either secure their help or ensure their neutrality._

 _On the home front, Sansa is adjusting to life at Eagle's Reach fairly well, once I convinced her my intentions were mostly honorable and she was sure she had basically full freedom she began to settle in. (It doesn't hurt that I am avenging her family) I've seen her let her guard down once or twice which is a good sign to me. I think she already knows I'm going to ask her to marry me but I don't need to rush these things and to be honest after so many years of celibacy I find the prospect of marriage somewhat frightening. I managed to get Brienne and Pod into my service and I assigned them to guard Sansa, thankfully they seem to be getting along fairly well._

 _As far as I can tell my proxy war in the North has been going fairly well. The Bolton's have been contained to the lands close to Winterfell and the Dreadfort. Several of the Northern houses are with me but we need to wait a few more months before I march North to lay the groundwork for my strike. I have everyone available searching for Rickon but I really have no idea where to look._

 _We are starting to reach the end of my foreknowledge I don't know when the White Walkers will come south and I don't know when Daenerys will come over to Westeros, I'll just have to make due._

 _The cannon foundry has been joined by a musket foundry, I don't expect to arm all my infantry with firearms but I am hoping to develop enough rifled muskets to arm a unit of skirmishers and to give my dragoons carbines. Hopefully they will be effective against the White Walkers. If not, I have flamethrowers in reserve. Snow is beginning to fall; it melts within a few days every time but more falls every time. More than the cannons and the guns I have my production focusing on snow shoes, skis and other winter fighting gear. If I'm going to fight a multi-front winter war, the least I can do is remember the lessons of France and Germany's misadventures in Russia. My troops will be warm, well fed and mobile even if I have to bankrupt myself to do it._

 _Word of the Frey's destruction has spread. Shockingly no one is upset. I actually got letters of congratulation from several northern lords. The Manderly's were especially enthusiastic and offered hospitality to all my descendants from now until the end of time._

March 300

The hearth fire was dying down in the dining hall of Eagle's Reach when the recently freed Edmure Tully finally tied down Hunter. The hall was mostly empty save for the servants preforming the usual evening duties. Hunter was at the head of the table leaning his chair back and propping up his feet on the table while reading a Westeros equivalent of a penny dreadful. "Hunter" Edmure called. "I'm glad I finally caught you alone. I wanted talk about the future."

Hunter looked up a hair from the book and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Edmure pressed onwards "I'm so greatful for the rescue from the Frey's but you must see that you've put us in a difficult position."

"Mhm" Hunter said as he looked back down to his book as he turned the page.

Edmure paused before continuing. "I am the hereditary Lord Paramount of the Riverlands."

Without looking up he said. "The Tully's will never again rule the Riverlands"

Edmure was taken aback "How do you figure, we have many allies, we may be low at the moment but we shall rise again. Just because you have these new cannons doesn't mean that you can hold onto land that doesn't belong to you. At best the lands will slip away from you one by one. At worst you will be torn down in a test of arms."

Hunter slammed the book on the table. Without breaking eye contact with Edmure he carefully tore out a page from the book and folded it again and again until it resembled a wedge. He threw the wedge past Edmure's ear and both watched the wedge as it flew high across the hall and circled round and round again. Edmure was shocked beyond belief. "I don't just have cannons" Hunter said with deadly finality.

March 300

Beneath the Sept of Baelor were cells that in days past held penitents and prisoners of the faith. Today they were being used again, they held two queens of the same country, Margaery Tyrell and Cersei Baratheon. Both were grimy and malnourished but Cersei was far more violent. Whenever she was visited she lashed out. On this day however, the woman she was visited by was one that she did not recognize and she carried a blade. Cersei's death was as quick and painless as possible, what followed was not, throughout the dungeon cries of "PRISONER ESCAPE!" rang out. More blade work followed in the confusion and soon someone cried out "THE HIGH SPARROW IS DEAD!" He wasn't at the time the call had gone out but the damage had been done. Confusion became panic and rage. The conflicting stories and warnings spilled out of the Sept and throughout the capitol city like wildfire, as Tyrell and Lannister troops began to converge on the scene, the citizenry began to organize themselves. The faith's hidden stockpiles of weapons were passed about and the bloodshed began in earnest. No one would be able to piece together what happened in those first few hours but fires began to spread throughout the city and many people died.

The city proper eventually fell to the rebelling citizenry and they began to organize around the Red Keep, drawing up makeshift siege lines. Within the keep the Royalist forces felt very secure, they had food enough to last a long time and the manpower to keep the rabble out. Unfortunately, a fire was started in the kitchen and quickly began to spread throughout the keep. The Royalists now had to fight their way out of the keep and the city a convoy was put together of all who had horses with the King at the protected center. They sortied out of the keep and cut their way through the city, killing and burning as they went. A small force centered around King Tommen managed to escape the city and quickly turned towards Casterly Rock. Most did not make it that far. Most of the city was eventually saved from the fires but the Lannisters, the Tyrells and most of their supporters were crippled by their losses.

With two dedicated women Hunter removed two more players from the board.


	8. Chapter 8: War in the North

An American in Westeros

Chapter 8

War in the North

 _Journal Entry (June 300)_

 _In the end Sansa was the one who proposed to me, I was lying in bed with a good book when she entered my chambers. Apparently my guards didn't think that "keep everyone out" applied to beautiful women. (It's not like a pretty woman ever killed anyone!). Suffice it to say she made a persuasive argument, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell._

 _My wedding to the new Lady Sansa Whent was a rather private affair. Only a few friends and family could make it to Eagle's Reach from across the war ravaged Kingdoms. When I can get her to smile…this was the right choice, for my happiness and quality of life if nothing else._

July 300

Roose Bolton was not a man to lose his nerve easily but today was a day that tested even his limits. Instead of the usual letter from his royal patrons, a series of scrolls were delivered by the monthly messenger. Within the scrolls were the details of the catastrophe that had occurred in King's Landing. A fifth of the city had burned to the ground within 3 days of the incident. The Crownland lords were fighting one another in an attempt gain control of the surrounding area and the faith militant was joining into the fray. Several minor keeps and manors had already been sacked and rebel cells were emerging all across the center of Westeros. No clear leaders had emerged from the chaos and the reason was made clear in the second scroll he opened. The list of the important dead was a mile long. Both the Queens, the patriarchs of both the Lannisters and Tyrells and many more lesser lords and ladies, sons and daughters. It appeared the Tyrell leadership was still somewhat intact but the Lannisters were reduced to any number of squabbling lesser cousins. The King was thankfully safe but Roose had no way to reach his ear. The truth was that for the foreseeable future the Boltons and their few allies were on their own. The Karstarks, some of the others and a few other collaborators who were too committed to switch sides were faithful to the Boltons, together they could field perhaps 7,000 men. That number was slipping day by day. A patrol went missing there, a tax collector was sent away forcefully at the cost of several guards. He knew know that it was the upstart Lord Whent that was financing his enemies and most likely preparing to invade. Whent's numbers were unclear but known to be relatively small, especially if you discount the garrisons needed to maintain the newly acquired lands. Offsetting that were the reports that some terrible tool had been added to his freakish menagerie of horrors, cannons they were called.

The North was feeling a lot smaller than it had in times past.

All was not lost however, mercenaries from Essos were on their way and "King" Stannis had finally been convinced to move south from Castle Black with 10,000 men, many mounted. It was a wonder what a common goal could do. Together they would reassert control upon the North. After that the alliance was sure to fall apart but tomorrows problems need not be handled today. And after all, what was the use of keeping a mad attack dog like Ramsay around without using it from time to time.

 _Journal Entry (September 300)_

 _Snow has been on the ground around Greywater Watch for a while now without melting and Howland Reed has been more than happy to allow my troops to practice winter maneuvering on his land. My troops have adjusted well to the use of snowshoes, skis and other implements of winter warfare. While most of the troops are still in steel armor and using traditional weapons like spears and swords, I have a unit of 100 skirmishers with rifled flintlock muskets, skis and reindeer to act as pack animals in the deep snow. They don't have enough time to become as good as the legendary Finnish ski-troops from my time but I'll be sending them ahead of the main force to raise some hell and get on the job experience. The problem is that I won't have more than 100 or so skirmishers for a long time. Most of my people simply can't adjust to the concept of a gun and what they mean for warfare. Of the few that do, only a handful show any real aptitude for using them in the field. We are still going to be doing a lot of this the old fashioned way. Well as old fashioned as I get these days._

 _I can't kid myself anymore, I am aspiring to become an imperial power these days. Between my absolute control of the Riverlands, my adventures in the North, my policing of the bordering Crownlands and my…uhm…dealings in the Vale (I really need to avoid relying on "removing" people in my way, it sets a bad precedent. There are just so many bad people in the world!), I intend to control everything north of an imaginary line from King's Landing to Casterly Rock. Except the Iron Islands, I have no need for a couple worthless pebbles in the ocean or the shitty people who live on them. There is a distinct shortage of nobility in the lands that I rule. They just don't seem to survive the transition in authority. I've been doing a count and at most a third of the Riverlands' prewar nobility is left, maybe a quarter. In their place I have expanded the bureaucracy I first established at Harrenhal to manage the lands. There is some of the expected graft and corruption of course but even so the land and the people are doing better in most cases than under previous management at least initially._

 _October 300_

"Here's to us" Tyrion toasted to his new queen "Two terrible children of two terrible fathers".

Daenerys Targaryen leaned back in her chair and studied her newest advisor carefully. They were sitting in her solar at the peak of the Great Pyramid in the sun blasted and unhappy city of Mereen. The room was well furnished and the exterior wall housed a large window. "So else can you tell me, who else should I know about?

Tyrion supped again from his wine goblet. "How much do you know of Lord Whent of Harrenhal?"

"Not much" she admitted. "One of the up and coming lords, in the Riverlands if I'm not mistaken."

"Unfortunately Ser Barristan left before things became really interesting. Lord Whent is the new Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. A young man, an ambitious man. He plays the long game. In fact, I just recently realized how long the game he's playing is. When I was imprisoned, by my dear sister he visited me briefly bringing me food and wine. He asked me who I was working with loudly enough for the guards to hear but quietly he told me 'When you dine with the queen please introduce me as a friend'. For a long time, I didn't understand what he meant until Varys, my rescuer and travelling companion told me we were going to see you. At that moment I realized he had spies that knew of Varys's secret plans. It appears he wants to be your ally." Tyrion stopped to wet his parched throat. "You would do well to consider his offer".

November 300

The newly minted Ser Steelshanks led a force of over 100 Bolton soldiers through the deep drifts of powdery snow along the Kingsroad attempting to force passage from Winterfell to White Harbor in the hopes of opening the passage for new supplies from the port. The horses were chest deep in last night's snowfall as the nearest road clearing team was housed in a village some miles away making progress excruciatingly slow. Around them the thick forest closed in menacingly in the falling twilight. Shadows twisted around the gnarled branches and the hoots of an early rising owl echoed around them.

The attack came moments before Steelshanks was going to call for camp to be made. Cracks of thunder erupted from the snow banks and amongst the trees. 30 odd men in warm fur that had been died grey and white had tracked them on skis all day and had taken up positions in a loose L formation to the side and in front of the Bolton column. The basic rifles reaped their toll upon the column and sprayed bright blood upon the white snow. Startled by the alien noise and the loss of almost a quarter of their force, the mounted Bolton troops wheeled around, searching for their opponents and attempting to bring their spooked mounts under control. After a few moments the smoke was identified as the source of the attack and a counter-charge was organized. The rifles were fairly accurate even at a distance but they were clumsy weapons and difficult to reload quickly. The deep snow slowed the charge and prevented the Bolton troops from forming a proper formation. The slow charge allowed a second volley to be fired felling another string of cavalrymen.

As the distance was closed, a few snapped on their skis and repositioned to more advantageous and secure positions but most of the skirmishers threw their weapons down and drew their melee weapons. One drew a short bow and shot the lead horse through the head. One threw a pair of knives into the chest of another. In response, the Bolton men began to throw spears felling two of the skirmishers. Then in a moment a melee erupted amongst the trees completely disrupting the charge. One rider was pulled from his saddle and had a knife stuck in his armpit by a man jumping from a tree. One man was cornered by three riders and stuck from all sides by their spears and swords. As the forces became intermixed and blood painted the snowy forest, a handful of skirmishers with bows and rifles fought in a way resembling biathlon, skiing from position to position to pick off stragglers and exposed targets with well-placed shots. Eventually the Bolton riders broke and scattered into the falling night. Only a dozen skirmishers were still in fighting condition and the better part of thirty riders had made good their escape. It wouldn't matter in the end though. They were miles from any shelter and the moon was rising high in the sky and full. It was perfect night for hunting.

 _Journal Entry (December 300)_

 _There's been a coup in Dorne…_

 _Fuck_

 _Doran and Dorne itself were key to my next move and now some crazy woman decided to avenge the death of her lover by murdering his whole family. There is nothing I can do now. Perhaps nothing I can do in the foreseeable future. Nothing except bitch and moan about it that is._

December 300

White Harbor was located on the eastern shore of the White Knife on the eastern coast of Westeros. It was clean and well-ordered, with wide straight cobbled streets that make it easy to walk around. The houses are built of whitewashed stone, with steeply-pitched roofs of dark grey slate. A layer of snow covered the rooftops but the roads were clear with piles of snow pushed into alleyways and against the walls of buildings. Each day, crews patrolled White Harbor shoveled all the snow out of the way and tossed and on the icy cobblestone. Once they were sure the snow would stop melting, they would change to packing down the snow into firm walkways rather than removing it.

The streets were packed with soldiers from all over the North and the Riverlands. Maidenpool and Harrenhal men mingled with Forrester and Reed men. The bars and whorehouses were making a killing. In the harbor itself were countless ships offloading troops and supplies. Many were Bravosi seconded from the Iron Bank to the Riverland forces. The troops from the North had been filtering in for more than a month. The Riverland forces had begun arriving a week ago in their multitudes and the assembling was almost complete.

The great hall of White Harbor had been converted from dinning to war. Many of the long tables had been pushed together and covered with maps of varying scale and detail of future battlegrounds. On the maps were tokens representing the disposition of forces throughout the theatre. At the head of the hall were Hunter, resplendent in black and white plate. To his right was Sansa Whent in grey velvet and fur. On his left sat Lord Wyman Manderly in his special extra strong, extra wide chair. Among the most noteworthy other personage in the room were Howland Reed, Barbary Dustin, Rodrik Forrester, Jason Mallister, Jonathon Grimsby jr., Jonos Bracken and Brandon Tallhart. Many others such as the Mormonts and Umbers were fighting father North in skirmishing and guerilla style warfare rather than trying to force their way south to White Harbor through the Bolton/Barratheon forces. As the driving force behind the gathered alliance, Hunter assumed the leadership.

Once everyone had settled in Hunter began to lay out their course of action "Ladies and gentlemen, I have good news. The Umbers have found Rickon Stark!" A cheer roared around the hall. Hunter waited for a few moments before riding the newfound wave of excitement. "Not only will we drive out the Boltons and their allies, we shall be restoring Eddard Stark's son to Winterfell!" More cheers. "We have the men, new weapons of war, we have cut the enemy off from resupply and we bleed their numbers from them day by day. Now is the time to strike! We are going to march North!" A cheer. "We are going to kill the Boltons." More cheers. "And we are going to kill Stannis Baratheon!".

After the cheers died down he continued. "We have 10,000 men here in White harbor and more than 2,000 fighting by Last Hearth and the surrounding areas already." He paused "I'm afraid I have more news. Lady Lysa Arryn has been dreadfully murdered by a bard mad with unrequited love. All is not bad however, Lord Royce has been declared protector of the Vale until Lord Robyn Arryn. Lord Royce sees the just nature of our cause and the value of having their neighbors secure. While the Vale's considerable forces cannot be marshaled in their entirety for this offensive, I am pleased to announce that another 1,500 soldiers of the Vale shall be joining us in the next couple days. Once they are here and have had two days to recover from their voyage we shall march!"

December 300

The ladders were built and the men were ready. Stannis needed a Stark to win the North and if he couldn't get a loyal volunteer he was going to take one. Last Hearth, the ancestral home of the Umbers was a fairly small keep though of seemingly rugged design. The fighting in the lands around the keep had been fierce wherever the enemy could be found. Patrols still disappeared from time to time but the Umber partisans had been hunted down in most cases and they were too few to stop his him when his full force was assembled.

Thousands of Baratheon men charged through the Umber Arrows despite their casualties and the difficult terrain. When they reached the walls, the snow proved a solid enough platform for the crude ladders. They swarmed up the ladders in an endless stream. The few hundred brave defenders of Last Hearth were quickly overwhelmed once they made it atop the walls. Where one Baratheon soldier was cut down 10 more took his place, where one Umber soldier fell, two more had their backs exposed. Ultimately everything aside from the main hall fell within 15 minutes of the Baratheon soldiers reaching the walls.

Within the main hall was Rickon, future Lord of the North, and his valiant defenders. Close at the young boy's side was Shaggydog, his direwolf. Along with them were several serving people and forty house soldiers lead by Smalljon Umber. Within moments of the sounds of battle dying down outside the hall, the barred main door been to rock and shake with impacts from a battering ram of some sort. "Here they come!" Smalljon roared. When the door finally came down a handful of arrows hissed into the breach felling a few of the attackers. The rest rushed into the room and a claustrophobic melee began. Smalljon crashed through the attackers and actually managed to cut a path to the doorway with great swings of his axe before he was stabbed with a spear in the thigh from behind. He fell to his knees with a cry and cut down two more men with one swing before being silenced for good. Shaggydog was a terror in the confines of the hall, darting through the melee and ripping legs and throats with his teeth and claws. Unfortunately, he too eventually fell. As the killing stopped, Stannis entered the hall flanked by his two most trusted advisors, Davos and Melisandre. He approached the shaking and sobbing young Stark who was clutching his dead Direwolf with a steady pace. He stopped, towering over the boy and said. "Lord Stark, welcome to my cause".

February 301

News of Rickon's capture enraged the forces under Hunter's command but it didn't fundamentally change anything. The forces were committed on both sides and his army was already marching North. The Northerners were extremely concerned for Rickon's safety but they understood that there could be no negotiation, only victory or defeat. From reports, it appeared as though what was left of his northern reinforcements underneath the Mormonts would not be able to link up with his main force. Instead they would continue the guerilla fighting and enforcing the blockade of Bolton/Baratheon troops. That left the better part of 12,000 soldiers under his command plus many ancillary personnel. From what he understood he faced at least 15,000 soldiers, likely more.

The march North was unpleasant and frequently stopped by changing weather conditions but they had made it almost to Winterfell. As it turned out they wouldn't need to go all the way to Winterfell. 20 miles south of their destination they encountered the combined Baratheon/Bolton force dug along what passed for the road. 15,000 plus was an intimidating number to have arrayed against you. The field of battle was an open, flat plain covered in snow for miles around. The bottom layer of the ground was a thin layer of solid snow pack. The past few days had been alternating unusually cold and warm however making the upper layer a nasty combination of ice and half melted slush that was extremely difficult to move through. "They outnumber us." Howland Reed observed.

"Not for long" Hunter replied. He shouted a long series of commands that got his army into motion.

* * *

"What do you think they are doing?" Ramsey Bolton asked Stannis Baratheon

"What are do you think they are doing my King." Stannis corrected impatiently.

"Yes my King" Ramsey said with barely enough deference to avoid punishment. "They must be 400 yards out there, more even and they seem to be digging in. It seems like they want us to attack their dug in positions across this shitty field."

"Of course they do" Roose chimed in. "They want to do exactly what we want to do. Especially since we clearly outnumber them. The question is how do they intend to make them come to us?"

The question was answered shortly as thunder began to erupt from the Whent's side. It turned out that the rumored cannons were even more of a threat than they had realized. Hot iron came racing into their lines. Some went overhead, some buried into the snow but two of the balls ripped through rows of Baratheon troops. The fire continued for what seemed like an eternity though they could only identify eight or so sources. Stannis's men cowered in their trenches and behind their snow embankments. Those who were left in exposed formations, spearmen especially where slaughtered where they stood.

"We have to stop those fucking cannons or we need to get out of here!" Ramsey screamed at his father.

"No" Stannis commanded "We can't retreat without being attacked and we will never have the advantage we do now again." He looked away from the searching eyes of his advisors and commanders. "We force them to come to us or we lose forever, and I think I know how. Get the Red Priestess" Then he whispered to himself "Damn you Whent, even if you don't kill me today you've succeeded in killing my honor."

* * *

"Look!" Howland Reed said whilst peering through his field glass. "They've taken too many casualties; they are starting to break!"

Hunter looked at where Howland was indicating. What he saw was confusing. At the center of the formation near Stannis's standard dozens of men ran forward with logs. The soldiers began to make a pyre and another group brought forward what appeared to be a struggling man. No…a struggling boy!

"ITS RICKON!" Howland screamed.

"What do we do! WHAT DO WE DO!

"By the gods!"

"NO!"

Many voices of many important people fought for dominance but one man rested control of the chaos for long enough to make others follow him. "CHARGE!" Howland roared.

And they began to charge, fist a dozen and then a hundred followed Howland into the killing fields. "Howland NO!" Hunter commanded to no avail. The icy grip of impending horror spread throughout him. "They'll never make it!" he shouted to his nearest remaining aid "SOUND THE CHARGE! FIRE EVERYTHING!" He then scrambled onto his horse and galloped into the fray.

* * *

"NO! NO!" Rickon screamed as he was tied to the pyre.

"Forgive me Lord Stark" Stannis said with a haunted face "I had intended for things to end differently but your blood is of the old kings. Your sacrifice today will ensure a better tomorrow. Either Whent's forces come to your rescue and they are defeated or you are consumed by the flame and the Lord of Light blesses us and grants us victory.

"It's working" Ramsey said while grinning.

Stannis turned to see Whent's forces abandoning their positions and crossing the field. "So it is"

* * *

Hunter's lead elements were 400 yards away from Stannis's forces. It was slow going, many slipped and fell. Even from this distance he could see flames beginning to grow upon the pyre. "Shit, shit, shit." His heart was pounding more than it ever had before. The fear, the excitement, it was all consuming. At three hundred yards the sky turned crimson with the light of a thousand crude rockets. The reflected light nearly blinded all those in the field. At two hundred yards the first arrows began to take their toll. As they closed the distance arrows and ballistae rounds struck Whent's forces down by the dozens and then the hundreds. He could see the flames begin to lick at Rickon's clothes.

And then the world erupted in flame and thunder as the rockets hit. The ground shook throwing most to the floor. Dust and mist blackened the sky. Then all was silent. To the deafened combatants, the only sound was silence, total suffocating silence. A few began to hear their heartbeats and breathing. They were soon joined by more and more. Other vague sounds began to penetrate their awareness. The soldiers of Stannis's army, those lucky enough to have avoided the rockets and their shrapnel as one began to hear a sound that drowned out all other new sounds. "OOOORRRAAHH, OOOORRRAAHH, OOOORRRAAHH" It was an anachronism, it was relic from time long past, it was the Soviet Battle Cry and it was the soul of northern fury and bloodlust.

As the air cleared 10,000 northern avengers fell upon their foes as much fury as their Soviet brethren had ever felt. Hundreds fell in moments on both sides, hot blood sprayed across the snow as blade crossed blade, spear broke spear and shields clashed. It was all for naught. Just as they reached Stannis's lines the flames claimed Rickon's life. As they did so a mighty wind blew the air clear, cleaned the snow from the field threatening to knock over Hunters forces. "What foul sorcery is this?!" cried Asher Forrester.

"I don't care! We're going to kill it!"

"How? The wind doesn't bleed!"

"The Red Woman! The Red Woman bleeds. And if it bleeds we can kill!"

Howland was the first into the breach and the first to die. Ramsey through a knife into his chest as he jumped the barricade. With his dying breath he reached out to his brunt child lord. A dozen more struggled over the barricade and engaged the Royal guards. Many died in horrific ways but none of that mattered to Hunter, not even Ramsey. The Red Woman was standing erect and glowing with a bright light. The unnatural wind was coming from her and preventing anyone from approaching her. An arrow was shot at her only to be whisked away. A new gust ripped Hunter from his horse. He hit the newly revealed frozen dirt with full force. As he struggled to rise, the Red Woman turned to him and spoke in an unnatural, deep and metallic voice. "Your journey ends here Usurper; you do not belong in this world! I cast you out! You cannot challenge the will of the ONE TRUE GOD!"

From his belt, Hunter drew the one and only pistol in the whole world. "FUCK YOUR GOD!" he screamed and pulled the trigger. In an instant, the Red Woman fell to the ground, silenced forever and the wind was sucked away. Hunter was completely still, too shocked to compute the world around. He laughed hysterically as his brain processed the shock. "My God could kick your God's ass any day." He said. The head of Roose Bolton fell at his feet bringing him back to the real world. He struggled to his feet and regained his bearings. Stannis and Ramsey were nowhere to be found, Rickon was dead along with many of his most valuable people, half his army was stuck in the killing field and the battle was still balancing on a knife's edge.

The Battle of Winterfell had only just begun.

 **TOO BE CONTINUED…**


	9. Chapter 9: Now for Wrath, Now for Ruin

_I meant to take a break but I couldn't stop myself from finishing the battle. Thank you for all the reviews by the way. I love my readers. Even the negative reviews I get have constructive criticism. I really appreciate it guys and gals._

An American in Westeros

Chapter 9

Now for Wrath, Now for Ruin

February 301

Lord Hunter Whent was in a forward observation post at the center of his enemy's battle lines. The observation post was about forty feet by forty feet with 4-foot-high walls made of snow with wooden bracers and raised several feet off the ground. It had a roof just a few minutes ago but it had been ripped to shreds when the Red God King Stannis worshiped had intervened personally upon the battlefield. Cyclone grade winds had ripped through the battlefield blowing away most of the snow and ice on the battlefield. It had also swept away many of Stannis's fortifications and bowled over a great deal of Hunter's troops. In fact, more than half of his remaining troops were still 100 yards or more from the front lines and most had to pick themselves up and reorganize into their units before continuing on. Without the organized shield walls and covering fire, they were extremely vulnerable to the unaffected missile troops of Stannis's army. Arrows and other missiles fell like rain upon the exposed troops. Those of Hunter's troops that had made it to engagement range desperately tried to force their way through the dedicated and professional melee troops to Stannis's missile troops to save their comrades. A number of the troops were from Harrenhal and well equipped with sturdy armor and good weapons, they were the best trained troops in Westeros and they were a nearly unstoppable force. Unfortunately, more were the contemporary Northern and Vale troops.

At the observation post, Hunter took in the battlefield. Though Stannis's forces had been disrupted by the rocket attack, they were closer to fireworks than weapons of war and had not caused as many casualties as their spectacular impact might have suggested. Several members of his command party and their bodyguards finished clearing the post and began fortifying it. The ground within the post was littered with dead bodies. Roose Bolton, Howland Reed, Brandon Tallhart, Rodrick Forrester, Harrion Karstark. The corpse of the Red Woman was given a wide birth though by both the living and the dead. During the chaos of her awful miracle several members of Stannis's entourage had disappeared including Stannis himself. While they were secure for a brief moment, Hunter's command party had been mounted enabling them to race ahead of the rest of their forces. The leadership of his army was at the tip of the spear and judging by the charging Baratheon troops, the enemy was aware of it. "Grimsby!" Hunter commanded.

"Yes milord"

"Ride back out, rally the troops and get them to our position!"

"At once" Captain Grimsby replied.

* * *

Captain Sulven Tiren of the 11th company of the Trident Battalion leaped over what was left of the first row of barricades landing steel boots first onto a cowering Bolton trooper crushing his chest. With a quick thrust of his short sword he cut deeply into the trooper on his left. A sharp blow on from behind sent him sprawling to the ground. The trooper that had been on his left quickly moved up to finish him off only to top suddenly as a sword erupted from his chest. From behind the falling Bolton trooper a knight of the Vale stepped forward and yanked Cody to his feet. "Keep going" The knight commanded. More Whent forces hopped the barricade in greater and greater numbers. A good deal of them died on the spears and swords of their more prepared enemy. As the press of men and metal began to crush in more and more, Captain Tiren decided to ignore the shouted commands of the valeman, there was no time to argue over command. The only thing that could be done was to kill or be killed.

* * *

Ramsey Bolton the new Lord of the North was happier than he could ever remember being. He had been worried about those cannons but things had taken a huge turn for the better. During the chaos of the Red Woman's magic he had stabbed his father in the back even as Stannis made his retreat. After they had backed off, Stannis had given him command of the Bolton forces and commanded him to kill as many of Whent's forces as he could.

He took to his new task with dedication and glee. He rallied his closest men and swept around the sides of their former observation point and engaged Whent's reinforcements. He spared a moment to look at the still burning pyre. He loved it when a plan came together. "Alright boys, let's cut the head the southern snake." His men roared with excitement as they charged towards Hunter.

* * *

"Hold!" Hunter cried to his retinue. Dozens of troops led by Ramsey Bolton swarmed up to the walls of the observation post from almost all sides. As both sides fought and died at the post's barricades Hunter stood at the heart of it all and commanded.

First the East side began to fall. Then the West side. Hunter's retinue were continually reduced in number and forced closer and closer together until Hunter was finally face to face with the monster himself, Ramsey Bolton.

"I've been waiting a long time for this!" Ramsey snarled.

Hunter swung with his sword but his ever meager martial ability failed him against such an experienced opponent. As he swung high Ramsey came in low and brought his sword crashing into his breastplate. Hunter was thrown to the ground violently. His entire chest was in agony and he could barely breathe.

Ramsey loomed over. "I had hoped to cut you slowly but I guess we'll have to settle for quick today!" He swung his sword down again and again, each blow bringing even more pain. The first blow cracked open his helmet, blinding him with his own blood. The second blow caved in part of his chest piece cutting of his air. The third blow broke through bit deep into his chest. Around him lay the bodies of his dead and dying retinues, only Stannis's troops were still standing. Time seemed to slow down as Ramsey raised his sword above his head for the final blow with a mad grin on his face. Hunter could do nothing, absolutely nothing.

The final blow never fell. Before Ramsey could finish the strike a cone of flame washed across the battle, roasting all still standing. Ramsey himself caught the flames across a great deal of his upper body. He managed to run screaming from the battle into the nearest snow bank before rolling around to put out the flames melting his face. He screamed and screamed and screamed.

Hunter managed to look over to see a Harrenhal trooper with a crude gasmask and a flame thrower leading a dozens of his men into the fray. Captain Grimsby sprinted up to him and dropped to his knees. "He lives!" he shouted to the others. "Milord, we have to get you to safety!"

With extraordinary effort Hunter managed to whisper "Transfer…(cough)…command." And then the blackness took him.

* * *

Captain Tiren struck with a captured spear at a man across the third line of barricade, killing the man. He had been fighting for at least an hour since the charge began. An hour of death with no clear victory in sight. Almost everyone he had managed to link up with had died. Only Ser Mancy, the knight of the Vale that had saved him when the mad charge had begun had stuck with him. "That's twelve!" Mancy declared off to his left.

Tiren barked a short, humorless laugh. "I'm on sixteen!"

On and on it went. Off in the distance he saw one of the priceless flame troopers be consumed in a fireball when his pack was pierced consuming all around him. It appeared as if the enemy was endless and he was joined by fewer and fewer of his compatriots all the time.

A rider came up behind them and shouted "We are pulling back!"

Tiren's heart plummeted. They had lost, all that was left was to see how many people would survive the retreat. He turned to Ser Mancy, "Get out of here! I'll lead a group to cover your retreat!" As he turned he was struck across the back of his head savagely.

"Not today!" Ser Mancy said "They need you more than me. Gentlemen take this man to the rear. Knights of the Vale with me!" He raised his sword above his head and charged into the breach, his armor gleaming with light reflected from the snow, every bit the image of a true hero. That was the last Tiren ever saw of him.

* * *

Stannis stood at a secondary command post far to the rear of his army watching the retreating Whent army with grim satisfaction. "Do we have the capability to pursue them?" he asked an aide.

"Not at this time" came the reply.

"Mhm" It didn't matter in the end. He had won decisively, from reports he had wiped out the enemy command and nobility. It was not a total victory, the Red Woman and his Stark were dead and Davos had disappeared shortly after his gamble and his forces had been mauled. He would take it though, and Whent's forces could be hunted down later. "Find Lord Bolton, I have need of my Warden of the North".

February 301

In the end no one was able to successfully assert command in time. Most of Hunter's chain of command went down with him early in the battle at the captured command post. Eventually, with lack of clear leadership Sansa Whent rode forth from the rear and bullied all the swaggering men surrounding her husband into following her lead. Under her guidance, order was restored to disorganized and broken units and a proper withdrawal was begun. Though she wanted more than anything in the world to take her family home back and avenge her family, she understood the reality and she prioritized the welfare of the living over that of the dead as much as she burned with rage and sorrow on the inside.

As the minutes became hours and miles were added between the armies she allowed them to slow their desperate flight to a sustainable pace. She left the lead elements in the hands of Captain Grimsby and slowed her horse to meet up with the wagon carrying her husband. "How is he?" she asked the maester overseeing Hunter's recovery.

"Not well, his sternum was broken, most his rib cage has collapsed actually and the organs they protect have been severely traumatized. He lost a lot of blood from his cut and he can barely breath. I'm afraid we need to stop soon to treat him. Even then, he may not make it"

She had lost so much already, she had lost her baby brother today, her chance at returning home and now her husband was dying. It was tearing her up in side but she was not the little girl she had been when she left Winterfell and she steeled her soul. "No" she said. "We stop when we are safe, not a moment before." She leaned over and grabbed Hunter's hand. "Live…please."

She then kicked her horse into a gallop and returned to the lead and sidled up to Captain Grimsby's side. "What happened to Hunter? Why is my husband dying in a cart being dragged through a snow storm while his sworn shield is perfectly fine?"

Grimsby's head hung low and his whole body slumped in the saddle. "When your brother was…when Stannis did what he did to your brother, Howland Reed charged across the field and most of the northerners followed him. Lord Whent knew his plans were doomed from that moment, he said so at the time, but he pressed on anyway but he climbed on his horse and leapt into the fray and tried to rescue his forces and your brother. He led from the front trying get his men out of the killing fields. In the end though Howland had led the lead elements too far ahead of the rest of our forces. Then the witch worked her foul magic. Even then Lord Whent took charge and slew the Witch with himself. When he took in the situation and sent me to rally reinforcements as he fortified his position. We…we didn't make it in time. When we got there the only survivors were a few severely wounded men. Ramsey Bolton was chopping away at Lord Whent when I arrived."

Sansa was silent for a long time before speaking. "I think you'd be of most use guarding the rear of the army, with the scouts perhaps."

Grimsby nodded silently, shamefully before turning his horse around and heading towards the rear.


	10. Chapter 10: Sansa

_This is it for a while, I have to force myself to take a break and do other things with my free time. Thanks for your support guys and gals. I'll be back in a bit._

 _Update: I got a great suggestion that I just had to run with. Near the bottom, the United States has been replaced with the United Kingdoms. It sounds better and it makes more sense._

An American in Westeros

Chapter 10

Sansa

February 301

The old kingdoms were shattered. The North as a unified realm no longer existed. Its ashes belonged to King Stannis Baratheon and Lord Hunter Whent. Well it had to belonged to Hunter at least. Nearly a week after the battle, Hunter was in worse condition than when they had started the long journey back to White Harbor. That meant that the new realm that stretched from White Harbor to Duskendale was now ruled by Sansa Whent.

Sansa rode near the head of the army as it marched southwards. At her side was the ever present Brienne of Tarth, her faithful and skilled protector. Trailing close behind them was the recently knighted Ser Podrick Payne, a young man who had seen more of the world and absorbed more knowledge under his many masters than most acquired in their whole lifetime. Around them were a platoon of ever watchful dragoons that circled Sansa like hawk's day and knight. They were an effective screen, keeping out all but the most important and brave messengers. The road they had been marching on should have been well maintained by the army's engineer units but it appeared as if Red Lady's miracle, often being referred to as simply the Miracle within the army, had thrown the weather out of balance. A mighty blizzard had fallen upon the land, beating the road and the army without relent. Only the superhuman efforts of the engineers and hundreds of volunteers had allowed the army to inch their way forward.

Hunter was getting worse, he had shown no signs of consciousness after he had transferred command and despite their best efforts they could not keep him warm. In fact, the unnatural cold was taking a terrible toll on both the wounded and the able. Several men simply failed to wake up every morning, frozen into eternal sleep. At least someone would simply keel over every few hours during the long march. Most of their heavy equipment had been left behind. At Sansa's command, all the remaining munitions and advanced technology had been destroyed and abandoned so as to not slow down the army.

Captain Grimsby did his duty as well as any man could. Under his command the rear guard sortied night and day to hunt their pursuers. With him leading their guardians, the rest of the army never encountered any of Stannis's forces and needed to only worry about the elements.

February 301

In the highest tower of Winterfell, a monster licked his wounds and plotted revenge. Ramsey Bolton, Warden of the North rubbed the best burn salve money could buy all over his body for the third time that morning, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream the whole time. He had doused the flames thrown at him by Hunter Fucking Whent before they could burn through the thickest parts of his armor but his extremities had been savagely burned. His neck and the bottom half of his face was a twisted mask of burns and scars that were turning necrotic. He had killed the first maester sent to treat him in a pain-fueled rage once he learned the extent of the damage done to him and how little of it could ultimately be fixed. He despised the fact that all his meals had to be cut into small pieces or mashed before he could eat them. He was the master of Winterfell yet he was trapped in his sick chamber.

Stannis visited regularly to check on him. With Rickon and Roose dead, Ramsey was Stannis's last, tenuous thread to power. And tenuous it was, Stannis had won the battle but he likely had lost the war. Their only hope lay in using their short-term manpower advantage to lock down the North and hope to ride out the winter. Ramsey was willing to go along with it for the time being. There was nowhere else for either of them to go and no one else for them to work with, in a way they were all prisoners in the North.

March 301

White Harbor streets were far more empty than when the army had left and the city's inhabitants were melancholy as a rule. As the army began to enter into the city proper, women and children began to fill the streets looking for their sons, fathers and husbands. Though Sansa saw a handful of happy reunions, downcast eyes and tears were far more common. The approach to Lord Manderly's keep through the city seemed like an eternity and it was agonizing the whole way.

As the army settled in, Sansa broke away with her retinue and entered the keep. Wyman Manderly was sitting in his broad throne at the far end of the hall surrounded by retainers. Upon seeing Sansa enter, we quickly shooed away those around him and beckoned her forward. "My Lady Sansa." He said "Thank the Old God's and the New that you've made it. We have had so little word through this foul storm. Come in and we shall take good care of you and your men. Please allow my servants to get you settled in and then you must tell me everything."

While she had intended to get to business right away the warmth of Wyman's hall began to seep into her, fighting the chill that had set so deep into her bones. Sansa decided that she could allow herself some small luxury in this hellish week. "Thank you my lord, I shall meet with you shortly."

After she was sure her husband was safely in the hands of the fretful seneschal Grimsby, Sansa slid into a hot bathtub and felt like the world was new again. As she felt the last of the chill ebb out of her she relaxed for the first time since the nightmare started. In fact, she relaxed so much that she actually fell asleep. She was woken up sometime later by a maid sent in with fresh cloths for her. Though somewhat frightened at having fallen asleep in a bathtub while alone, she felt even better than before. Before the only concern had been survival and the next step they needed to take to achieve it. Now the magnitude of the situation truly began to set in. She was the sole ruler of more land than anyone save the King on the Iron Throne. "Well" she thought to herself "The King Who Lost the Iron Throne is more accurate"

Sometime later she met with Wyman Manderly and outlined the situation so far. Wyman listened intently, only interrupting to add that the Vale might be willing to commit more troops to their endeavor. Once she finished, she declared that she intended to remain in charge of the Whent coalition. Wyman supported her unreservedly. As the most powerful remaining Northern lord, his support would be key. "I'm afraid we are mostly out of our new weapons of war and their munitions." Wyman informed her. "And we can't replace them quickly. From what Hunter told us, he spent years building up the weapons that have been lost on this campaign."

"Then we need new weapons" Sansa said. "Do you know where these new weapons and technologies come from. With Hunter in what appears to be a coma, we need continue without him."

"I believe I can answer that to some degree" Seneschal Grimsby said as he slipped into the room. "My lady, I came to inform you that Lord Whent appears to be stabilizing"

"That's wonderful" Wyman said.

Seneschal Grimsby nodded "unfortunately stabilized does not mean improving. The maesters are doing everything they can but they are not confident about when he might wake up, if ever. To that end" He pulled a large, worn leather book from his breast pocket. "Lord Whent left instructions that you were to receive this should anything happen to him. It's his personal journal."

No one had ever read Hunter's journal other than himself. Sansa took it from the elderly man slowly and examined it carefully. While the cover was to worn to make out any details that had once been on it, she opened to the first page to find in beautiful calligraphy…

 **An American in Westeros**

 **The Journal of Hunter Reynolds**

 _Journal Entry (March 301)_

 _My name is Sansa Whent. This was once my husband's journal but it is looking increasingly likely that it will be mine permanently. I have read this journal countless times but I still don't understand everything. Hunter was not particularly consistent about making journal entries and everything was written for those who have an intimate understanding of the world he grew up in._

 _My husband, the man I love, is not of this world. Nor is he nobility. He is a stranger from a strange land, here by nothing more than an accident or perhaps divine will. He never came to a conclusion about that and I confess I can't decide either._

 _So much is explained, the cannons, the rockets, the concrete. It all was commonplace in the world he came from. They were all relics of a home long lost to him. I never realized how profoundly lonely he was in this world. I only spent a year concealing my thoughts and feelings in King's Landing while he has spent the better part of a decade living a double life. It's not just a window into his mind though. There are drawings, descriptions of useful tools and plans for the future. It describes ways of management and governance that are radical but intriguing._

 _What's horrifying is that our lives, our world was a tall tale that everyone he grew up with knew by heart. He never had the amazing spies that he pretended to (In fact he frequently disparages my new agents). He already told me he knew some of what was going to happen but he never let on that he knew everything… everything that would happen to my family. I want to hate him for letting it all happen but he poured so much of his pain into the book. I can feel his misery at his inability to act. I understand that knowing the future is a curse if one is powerless to change it. In a way the Hunter I knew in the past is already dead. The man I might meet if he ever wakes up will be someone I'll have to get to know all over again._

 _The most terrifying thing of all though is the doom sweeping upon us from beyond the wall. If he is right, we are running out of time._

March 301

Winterfell was no longer safe for Stannis and his allies, that much was becoming clear. Within its walls, accidents tended to happen to the occupiers. A man would slip and fall to their deaths off the walls almost every day. Well preserved stocks would rot away in hours and none who ventured into the crypts ever returned. Though Stannis was loathe to admit it, it seemed as if sacrificing Rickon Stark to bring the Red God into the field had weakened the barrier for other things to affect the world of the living. It seemed as if Winterfell itself was fighting them. Without any advisors who understood the supernatural elements at play here, the only option he had was to relocate to the Dreadfort. Neither he nor Ramsey were happy to be there though. It was a lesser keep with a fraction of the prestige and the defensibility of their former capitol.

Save for a handful of servants meant to keep it from falling apart, Winterfell was empty.

April 301

It was time to face the inevitable, Castle Black was no longer inhabitable. The snow and cold had been getting steadily worse for nearly two months, worse than even the oldest wildling from the most northern clan could remember. Even those huddling around the hearth fires could not shake the cold from their bodies. Lord Commander Jon Snow, having made so many other decisions that had gone against tradition was now about to be the first Lord Commander to order the Wall abandoned.

By late morning on the fateful day, the land around Castle Black was packed with people. Northerners from Mole Town, Last Hearth and elsewhere joined the last of the wildlings and the Nights Watch. Huddled masses of men women and children of all ages and from all walks of life clumped around reindeer and horse pulled carts and sleds with all their worldly possessions which were mostly food. Alliser Thorne had been sent out with a strong force joined by the newest brother of the Night's Watch, Ser Davos Seaworth. To scout out the path ahead. They were going to try to force their way through the weather and Stannis's forces to the coast. From their they were hoping to get to the Northern loyalists on Bear Island. Potentially heading south from there as well if need be.

Jon Snow took one last tour through the castle to make sure everything was settled. To be honest, even with the immense history of Castle Black, there really wasn't all that much to it. All there was rotten wood and weathered stone. A layer of frost and ice covered almost every surface, even approaching perilously close to the still burning hearth fires.

Sam appeared in the doorway behind him. "Jon it's time to go"

Jon took one last look around before nodding to Sam.

By mid-day, a refugee party of many thousands began their migration southwards, none would ever return.

April 301

"We shall not be returning to Winterfell." Sansa commanded the newly arrived Lord General Willas Wode and the rest of the assembled Northern lords. The general reply was one of shock and anger.

"What?!"

"But my Lady…"

"Without Winterfell there is no North!"

Sansa slammed her fist down on the table. "Open your eyes! You have all been reading the same reports as I have. There is no North to return to. Stannis has poisoned it against habitation with his foul magic." She gestured grandly to the room. "The Wall is empty, the people of the North are coming to us in their hundreds and thousands, those that can anyway. I say we wait. Either Stannis freezes to death in a grave of his own making or he tries to force his way south to us. Either way we defeat him. Either way, the North is lost to us. We must make a new home here." Though they universally despised leaving their ancestral home, they all recognized the necessity. While the argument over the details would continue for weeks, Sansa proved an able diplomat and leader throughout the proceedings.

 _Journal Entry (May 301)_

 _The production facilities in Harrenhal are working overtime to replace our lost equipment. Unfortunately, there are only so many qualified personnel with limited facilities. I'm told our second cannon should be complete relatively soon. We won't have a full battery for a while._

 _The agents sent to Bravos to find Arya have returned. It seems that the Faceless Men were unwilling to let my sister go and more than capable of keeping her from me. I'm not too surprised but I am disappointed. I will get Arya back even if I have to burn Bravos to the ground._

 _Podrick is such a sweet boy and has been such a wonderful teacher in less martial matters. I have set him up with some small lands of his own as thanks. Brienne is teaching me to defend myself. I may not be as big or strong than her but I refuse to be helpless again. Never again._

 _I have been negotiating with the remaining nobility in my lands. They understand that the situation is changing drastically. Lord Royce of the Vale has been immensely more helpful than I've been led to understand my aunt ever was. While he has been unwilling to commit more troops to my cause. He has agreed to let the threat of the Vale's intervention hanging over the heads of potential enemies._

 _I actually received a letter from King Tommen. Apparently Hunter had campaigned for my pardon before we left for the campaign. He apologized for his family's treatment of me. He also informed me that while the Sparrow rebels had been mostly pacified and King's Landing was under siege at the time that the letter was written, Dornish forces had marched north and begun to attack the Tyrells in an attempt to reach the Westerlands and wipe out the Lannisters. For the time being, we are completely on our own. That works in our favor though. The longer I am free of Royal interference, the more independent and self-sufficient I can make my realm._

May 301

The cold didn't seem to be getting much worse in White Harbor. Though it had reached the point where it adversely affected their daily lives, it didn't seem as though it would drive them out. New material and personal were being shipped in daily to help fortify the town and prepare for the heart of winter and the things that came with it. Sansa had decreed that anything North of the line between Moat Cailan and White Harbor was to be considered no-man's land to be recovered when Spring arrived. Whilst that line was being fortified, parties were being sent north to find loyalists and refugees and lead them to safety. Ships were being sent along both coasts to do the same thing. The ship that had travelled the farthest in the East Coast reported that they had been forced to turn back just shy of Skagos. Nothing lived north of their they reported.

All those of importance in White Harbor had been summoned to the great hall once again. This time it was to hear an announcement. Sansa stood on a dais constructed for the occasion and towered over those assembled. She gave the crowd a moment to quiet down and then dove into her speech. "Lords and Lady's. Much has changed in the past three years. The Seven Kingdoms are no more; the lands north of Highgarden have been thrown into chaos. Many of us are refugees, unable to return to our homes, perhaps for the rest of our lives. If we cannot rely on the alliances and ways of old, we must forge a new path for ourselves. We must band together and forget the differences of the past. We must unite to face the coming days. We can no longer be the North and the Riverlands, in fact we have not been the North and the Riverlands for some time. That is why I have declared the lands under our control the United Kingdoms, the newest kingdom of Westeros!"

There was a pregnant silence throughout the room. No one was really sure what to do next. Then a pair of hands began quietly clapping in the back. More joined it and the applause and cheers began to fill the hall as the gathered people began to celebrate their newfound independence. She felt overwhelmed with pride at her accomplishment. She had held her disparate people together begun forging them into a new, unified nation. She would never again allow herself or those she cared about to be at their enemy's mercy.

The first man to start clapping was at the back of the hall, the gaunt wisp of a young man in an ornate wheelchair ordered his attendant to take him back to his chambers. He didn't want to steal his wife's thunder; this was Sansa's moment.


	11. Chapter 11: Hell is Upon Us

Hey guys and gals, I know this is a smaller update but I just wanted to put something out there to assure you that this is not dead. I suspect that my next step will be to put out another chapter or two and then start rewriting and expanding earlier chapters. I see this as the 1.0 version of this story. Someday I hope to deliver the 2.0 version. Thanks for your support as always.

Oops, re-uploaded with the missing conversation between Hunter and Sansa about his origins

 **An American in Westeros**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Hell is Upon Us**

 **May 301**

It took Sansa several hours to extricate herself from the crowd of enthusiastic supporters that had gone wild upon her announcement. Every lord and lady of even the slightest note wanted their presence and their support to be remembered by both history and Lady Sansa.

The long shadows of a cold winter's night were creeping from the windowsills as she made her way back to her chambers. Dozens of candles began their nightly vigil against the dark in the alcoves and the chandeliers of White Harbor's halls. Two burly guards in the yellow and black plate of Harrenhal stood at her door as always. From within her chambers she heard faint voices. Curious she slowly opened the door. As she did so the voices became more distinct.

"...but you can't!" A fretful man who could only be Grimsby the Elder said.

"Nonsense, when my wife arrives she will find me standing" a weak, almost unrecognizable voice tried to declare authoritatively.

Upon hearing the second voice she abandoned stealth and threw open the door. Before her a gaggle of retainers led by Seneschal Grimsby were surrounding her husband. Lord Hunter Whent, now of the United Kingdoms was now a wisp of a man who couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds. His formal wear now seemed to dwarf him, giving the appearance of a child trying on his father's clothes. He leaned upon a pair of wooden crutches with velvet pads under his arms while attempting to stand up straight. He looked up at her an smiled weakly. "I loved your speech" he said before collapsing to the floor.

"Hunter!" She shouted in shock. She dashed to his side and scooped him up in her arms, clutching his head against her chest. "I…we...I feared you would never wake."

He let out a little laugh, "I'm back" he said quietly, lovingly.

A pointed cough reminded the young married couple of the gaggle of attendants surrounding them. Grimsby knelt down to their level. "Our dear lord was being quite unreasonable. When he awoke he demanded to see you immediately."

The head Maester in the Harrenhal retinue, Keld, spoke up. "Though we are all grateful for his recovery, it is critical that he remain in bed for the foreseeable future to prevent his condition from worsening."

" Yes, thank you Keld" Grimsby Sr said with the air of long tested patience. "Your limitless knowledge and wise council are always helpful. Hunter insisted on seeing you my lady, over the objections of all present."

Hunter spoke up, " I heard it was going to be a good show" he said in his defense. "You were magnificent out there by the way"

She kissed him deeply on the lips. After disengaging she said, "you silly fool, I dragged you through endless miles of snow to keep you safe, if you had sent word that you were awake I would have come to you. We'll have none of this from now on."

Grimsby nodded and stood upright. "Come along now" he said as he herded the rest of the retainers out of the lordly chambers.

"But the lord...!" Maester Keld objected.

Grimsby Sr put a hand on Keld's back and pushed firmly. "I believe that Lady Whent is more than capable of keeping Lord Whent in his sickbed for the time being."

She was more than capable and as it turned out, Lord Whent was willing, even eager to stay in bed because of Lady Whent's methods of keeping him there.

* * *

Deep in the night Hunter and Sansa cuddled comfortably on their bed under several thick fur blankets. The candles that had been lit had long died down and White Harbor keep was silent at this hour. Though the young couple didn't have the energy to keep up their preferred activity throughout the night, they were content to simply lie there and talk in the quieter moments. After the natural conclusion of one conversation, they lay silent for a moment before Sansa said "So…tell me about Seattle."

Hunter nearly fell out of the bed so startled was he. Panic overtook him and he briefly looked to escape before the rational part of his mind began to sort things out. "Ah…you…Grimsby gave you the journal didn't he?"

"Yes" She replied "It was…" she looked around for the right word "Shocking".

Hunter began to settle down a bit "I can Imagine, I really meant for you to have it if I died, I don't really know where to begin."

"How about the part where you are from another world and have fooled everyone into letting you take over a third of a continent?" Sansa suggested, a hint of something dangerous entering her voice.

"Let me?!" Hunter exclaimed, "No one has let me do anything! I have had to butcher what feels like half the kingdom because they are all trying to kill me! This land is nothing but a charnel house I have done what I knew I needed to in order to survive!"

"And how did you know?" Sansa asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

"So you read all of it" Hunter said, "No reason to expect you didn't I suppose. Yes, I saw this all happen as…well a play would be the closest thing that you understand. I told you before I had seen what might happen."

"Yes but I never expected the true explanation to be so unsettling, are we…what are we?"

Hunter grasped her hand, "You are real, all of this is real. You don't need me to tell you that though do you? You've lived a full life up until this point, you know in your heart that this isn't just some dream".

After a long pause she nodded

Hunter continued "If I had to guess, I'd say that there is probably a world out there where another version of you heard about my world in a tale and got stuck in Seattle. I'm sure in that world I would be just as shocked to hear the same thing from you."

She smiled a little at the thought of that. They both fell silent as they contemplated their new information. "What was Seattle like?" she asked.

Hunter wrapped his arms once again around her. "You'd love it" he said "It's cold, wet and the winters last forever."

She smacked him playfully. "Ow" he said "You can't treat your wounded war hero husband so poorly. I'll have you dragged off to the dungeons you heartless wench!" She smacked him again. "Okay I yield, I yield. I'll tell you about Seattle. In the far north of my home country there is a protected inlet that offers the best port within a thousand miles. Seattle was built there maybe 150 years before I was born. It's bigger than any city you've ever seen before, even Kings Landing…"

And so they talked through the rest of the night content that the subject was if not resolved, at least under control.

* * *

 ** _Journal Entry (May 301)_**

 _I'm back, err…most of me is. Despite the best care available, I'm never going to be as healthy as I once was. I've had a hacking cough since I woke up, I still feel pain all over and my left leg is fucked up enough that I might not walk on my own again. I hated running anyway. For now, though I go most everywhere in a wheelchair. It's as nice as wheelchairs get in this day and age, wonderful leather and plenty of blankets and pillows._

 _My subordinates are adjusting rather well to my return to command, I'm not the first crippled lord to rule over them and I was never known as a mighty warrior anyway. You don't need to be a mighty warrior and lead every charge if you make enough money!_

 _Edmure Tully is back in Riverrun and ruling the Western Riverlands, I made sure he understood that he ruled in my name. The other remaining nobility in my realm have been fairly quiet in general. They're smart enough to see the casualty rate their kind has suffered under me and they are keeping their heads down. It's not as if I'm trying to wipe them out! It's just that I believe in them sharing some of the risk with the people under them and in times like this, there isn't a large enough population to sustain that policy indefinitely._

* * *

 **May 301**

Bear island was not the most comfortable place during winter but it did offer enough shelter to survive the extreme winter. The massive trees guarded against the wind and released enough heat too keep the temperature within survivable ranges if only just barely. Jon Snow's ragtag horde of refuges had cut down many to make the shelters they huddled in. The Wildlings were experts in improvised and cold-hardy shelters.

The trees were more than shelter though, they were salvation. It seemed as if the entire island was being felled as to build more cold hardy shelters and boats to carry them even farther south. They had been carried by the evacuating ships of Stannis's selllsail fleet but too many had decided to run for the beaches of Essos and damn the consequences for the refugees for the whole group to continue south. The young Lady Mormont had taken all of them in, every single one of them. She had declared that House Mormont would not turn away anyone in this dire hour. She spared little time for the "cowards" as she called the crews that had ran for Essos. Consequentially, they had to shelter in place as they made repairs to the remaining ships.

Lady Mormont had decided to strip Bear Island to the bone and move her entire people and the sum of their culture to safety, when advised as to the difficulty of this task, she stood resolute on the matter. There would be nothing and no one left behind so long as she was in charge. They would all leave together.

* * *

 **June 301**

Only two human souls remained in the far north. Bran Stark and his companion Meera Reed rested atop the wall. A great cold had ravaged the land but Bran's magic had increased by an order of magnitude. So long as Meera stayed within a half league or so within Bran she felt as warm as she had in the heart of summer in the neck. It was as if there were a shield around them.

Only the wind was their companion along their long trek, all others had fallen by the wayside, Hodor, Summer, Benjen. It had been one long flight since leaving Winterfell and moments like this were few and far between. Meera almost felt at peace on the top of the wall, she had never witnessed a view so grand in her life. It was the sort of view that gave one a new perspective on life. To the north, a blanket of impossibly deep snow covered the endless forest. At the edge of her view, only the very tops of the tall trees stuck up out of the snow. To the south, the ruins of what Bran told her must be Mole Town were just poking out from behind a hill.

They had a long way to go still, Bran insisted that the "key" lie to the south. Neither of them knew what the key was or where exactly it was. All they could do is follow the keys pull on Bran, she didn't pretend to understand that but she didn't need to. All she needed to do is keep Bran moving.

And then the world seemed to end. Bran and Meera were rendered deaf by a sound louder than any that had ever been heard on this world and the wall shook mightily beneath them. An explosion threw a cloud of pulverized ice and rock miles into the air briefly blocking the sun. Meera desperately covered her ears while screaming in pain. Then a calm came over her and the pain faded. She heard Bran's voice despite her deafness, "Hold tight to me Meera I can protect you but you must not let go of me". She wrapped her arms around him and held more tightly than she had ever before.

* * *

 ** _Journal Entry (June 301)_**

 _Hell is upon us._

 _A sound the likes of which has never been heard by mortal ears in Westeros sounded for all to hear no matter where they were. At first, it sounded like a scream that lasted for god knows how long. Then it stopped abruptly as what sounded like the boom of a jet breaking the sound barrier roared out. No one knows exactly what that was but I can only assume that it was the wall falling as the White Walkers head south. If it's better than that, we might have a chance. If it's worse than my guess; well then nothing will really matter._

 _To my amazement, Jon Snow of all people arrived with the entire Night's Watch and nearly 10,000 refugees of all sorts. I'm happy to have them but there are still god knows how many people are going to die under Stannis's care when they get hit. It's not enough, saving the refugees, raising new units, deepening the defenses it's all reacting to the enemy. I need to attack somewhere, somehow. I don't know anything about them, how many there are, how to fight a zombie army with medieval weapons. I can't just wait on for the dragons, for all I know they won't work, for all I know the books end with the whole world dying. It's time to take a couple gambles._

 _Winterfell, it's always Winterfell and the Starks. Every story I hear, every old legend I've dug up it always comes back to them. If I'm going to gamble, that's what I'm going to bet on, thankfully I just got a spare Stark (and or Targaryen) and the Nights Watch doesn't have a post anymore, I'm going to suggest an expedition to re-occupy Winterfell, I know it's been abandoned and I suspect that Stannis will be too busy to send troops to a ghost town. I need them to find something, anything._

 _Speaking of dragons, the way things are going, I'm not convinced they are not going to cause me problems. To that end, I have developed the world's first anti-aircraft platform. I took the idea of an organ gun and adapted it to my means and situation. It is comprised of four rows of five rifled muskets with flintlocks and synchronized triggers, they have to be disassembled to reload them so we realistically only get one shot in combat but I only need one volley to hit. In the show, spears from the sons of the harpy were able to severely wound one of the dragons so I figure that a volley with enough rounds to chop down a decent sized tree will at least clip their wings. The racks are then mounted on the top of a large tripod with a swivel mount that can be angled nearly vertically. Expensive, potentially useless but they are perhaps my only real chance should the worst come to worst. I call them the Dragonlance A-1, I know I'm still a bit of a nerd. (The A in A-1 doesn't mean anything, I just think that weapon names should be formatted like that)._

 _We have more soldiers than when we first set out on our expedition but they are not on par with the troops they are replacing. I see more and more old men and young boys in my ranks, it's not a good sign. I hope they will be enough._

* * *

 **June 301**

The Dreadfort had always been a dark and foreboding place. Its high walls were topped with spikes and menacing carvings that gave it an almost demonic appearance. It was a lesser fortress than Winterfell, smaller and with thinner walls. It was still the most suitable seat for Stannis, the Throneless King in the lands he ruled. It was below the white death as the area unsuitable for human habitation was called but only just barely. The soldiers manning it and the nobles occupying it were a disturbingly large portion of his kingdom. Even when everyone carefully avoided him, Ramsey Bolton could see that the fledgling kingdom was dying faster and faster every day. There was no way, it could survive in the long run. They had won a great battle but they didn't have the resources fight another. They were safe from attack so long as winter held and they could use the time to recover and re-organize but there was no way they could keep up with their enemies. The new United Kingdom would strike in spring with several times the men Stannis could muster. It was time to consider a new path forward.

His future did not lie in the North, at least for the short term. Where to go though? There was enough money in Stannis's Vaults to take a small company of trusted men and live comfortably wherever he wanted. A quiet life didn't appeal to him, he wanted vengeance or failing that at least the opportunity for violence.

* * *

 **September 301**

The gates of Winterfell were frozen shut before Lord Commander Snow and his handpicked brethren. It appeared as if the entire fortress was encased in an impenetrable layer of ice. The men themselves felt as if they would soon share the same fate in the horrific cold. It had been a long, hard trip that only the arctic experience of the wildlings that had accompanied them

Ranger Davos Seaworth sidled up beside him. "My Lord it is time to return" he said.

Jon said nothing, he hadn't heard his subordinate, something in the ice had caught his eyes.

Davos changed tact somewhat. "We took a gamble coming here my lord, when you gamble you have to know when to double down and when to head home, this is the latter. There is nothing for us here."

Jon turned sharply "Davos, do you see something in the ice?"

Davos cocked his head "No Lord Commander…what is it?"

On some strange instinct, Jon removed his glove and reached out slowly to touch the ice. When he did, a sharp sound like glass being tapped upon rang out. The ice faded away before his hand revealing words in gold upon the gate he had never seen before. They read "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell". The ice continued to fade away and the gates began to swing open as they came loose. All the men save Began to back away in fright and a warm wind washed over them. In just a moment they went from near hypothermia to being as comfortably warm as any of them had ever been. Jon wheeled his horse around to face his men. "Ser Davos!" He said with a grin that didn't seem to fit his face quite right. "I think it's time to double down!" He turned and cantered into Winterfell without looking to see if any were following him.

* * *

 **September 301**

Ramsey Bolton, former Warden of the North strode confidently into the Great Pyramid of Mereen's throne room. It had been a long road to get here, it cost most of his money and several of his men but he had finally reached the Targaryen Queen and the beginning of his long road back to the top. "My queen" he drawled with all the charm he could muster despite his burned and scarred visage. I have travelled long and far to reach you." He couldn't keep himself from leering at her "I have come to you to offer my services; I can help you keep the North after you take it."

Tyrion Lannister, standing on a platform below the queen yet above the main floor moved to speak when the Queen raised her hand to stop him. "And why?" she asked "Do I need your help? I have heard many things about you, you were handed the North…and you lost it."

Ramsey faltered "My queen, the circumstances were extraordinary…"

She cut him off "And you have a reputation of betraying your rulers, how many kings have you abandoned? 2? 3?"

Ramsey was on the defensive, this was not going how he had envisioned, instinctively his eyes started to dart about looking for an exit.

Daenerys motioned for two people to come out of the corner and onto the dais Tyrion was on. The sight of the Greyjoy siblings made Ramsey begin to truly panic. "I have also heard other terrible things about you, we shall need a proper investigation into your activities and character before I can consider your services."

That was too much, Ramsey drew his sword and fell into a defensive stance, looking for a way out. All the unsullied in the room moved quickly to defend their queen and neutralize the new threat but Yara Greyjoy was quickest, a hidden knife practically appeared leaping from her hand and sank into Ramsey's gut. He doubled over in agony. The last thing he saw before the world faded was Yara Greyjoy yanking his head up by his hear and screaming with rage "Theon, get over here it's time to deal with this sick fuck!"


	12. Chapter 12: The Two Conquerors

_**Hey guys and gals! I put out another chapter quickly to set up the big final chapter. I think we only have 2-3 really big (double length or more) Chapters left so expect to wait a little bit for the next ones to come out. Not too long though, maybe a week. I am working hard on this and I am excited to bring them to you. Then I will try to make the 2.0 version. In doing that, I intend to expand and fill in the blanks rather than change the story drastically.**_

An American in Westeros

Chapter 12

The Two Conquerors

October 301

"My lord! Careful! Careful!" Maester Keld exclaimed.

Hunter paused and rested on his crutches "Keld, I am going to walk today no matter how many time you shout at me and if you continue to do so the first thing I'm going to do is walk over to you and throw you out the window!" Hunter said, the strain on his muscles and the pain made him far more irritable than normal.

"Come now my lord" Grimsby chided gently, "we are all concerned for you". They and Sansa were gathered in a room dedicated to Hunter's physical therapy to witness his first attempt to walk unaided

Hunter just grunted in response. He took several deep breaths and handed his crutches to Grimsby. Hunter took his first step along a thick, padded railing meant to support him should he need it. The room was silent as he took his next step slowly. On his third step he stumbled and had to catch himself on the rail. "Careful!" Keld shouted

Hunter grimaced in pain and shouted "Keld shut up or I swear!" He grunted as he pushed himself up "Out the window!". He paused to recuperate. He apologized "Sorry, my temper is getting the best of me". He took several more deep breaths and continued on his way. Four paces, five, six. It was difficult, it was painful but he triumphantly took the final step along the twenty pace railing and happily collapsed into the waiting wheelchair to the cheers of everyone in the room. He began to laugh. "I can walk! I can walk!"

 _ **Journal entry (October 301)**_

 _I'm mobile again or at least as mobile as I'll ever be. I can walk without aid albeit slowly and not over great distances. I also had a special saddle made based on the one Tyrion proposed for Bran that locks me in. I can still fight from horseback. The musket foundry added a small pistol shop for officers and cavalry as they have expanded. Now I can shoot from horseback and hack away with my new cavalry saber if I get in a tight spot._

 _Speaking of firearms, I don't have enough of either kind to field a complete army armed with firearms but I don't want one anyway, they offer an advantage but they are too new. No army should be based around a brand new weapon and I need my forces to retain their ability to kick ass in melee. Plus, swords and axes don't run out of ammo._

 _The fires of industry are consuming everything they touch; natural resources are being consumed at an almost unimaginable pace as my industrial base expands. I wish they could be turned to civilian industry but we need breastplates and field artillery more than we need pots and pans._

 _I have put the new printing presses into work to distribute broadsheets and I have spread the wilding survivors as much as I can so they may spread their tales of Hardhome, by this point everyone knows what is coming even if they can't pretend to understand it. The fear is palpable. Windows are boarded up, supplies are horded and anyone with money and time to reach a bar is carousing with manic urgency. As I ride through White Harbor's streets I don't see a port that should be bustling even in the heart of winter. I see Stalingrad moments before the hammer of the Third Reich falls._

 _I am ashamed to admit that in the vein of all the great demagogues of history I have harnessed that fear to fuel a war machine the likes of which has never been seen before in this world. There are no civilians in the United Kingdoms, I have marshalled the entire population under my command. Everyone fights or works, everyone who can't wield a sword can prepare food or balance a ledger._

 _Thankfully no one is hungry yet. The food surplus we developed has been an incalculable help but I feat that it won't be enough. It takes a staggering amount of food to feed a kingdom for a week. The amount it takes to feed a kingdom for however long this winter is going to be is unimaginable._

 _As much as I love my adopted home, White Harbor is becoming the capitol of my new country, all the power and civil personnel are concentrated there and I expect to reside there for a long time. That seems to fit the historical pattern though. Harrenhal can be the New York City to White Harbor's D.C._

 _There are trenches stretching from coast to coast along the northern border of the United Kingdoms that has been named the Winter Line. Forts have sprung up at strategic points like roads and passes and are expanding constantly to offer the best defense possible. I don't expect the line to hold under sustained attack, its purpose is really as a tripwire for the coming invasion. There are almost as many ravens as there are soldiers in the line and they should be able to let the reaction forces gather and well react in time to make a difference. The Winter Line is also about to be the testing ground of my latest suicidally stupid idea. If it works, I'll tell you about it, if it doesn't, it'll disappear into the list of other failed ideas I have failed to mention._

November 302

"This is the stupidest fucking idea I've ever heard." Lord General Willas Wode declared to the assembled group.

Hunter gave him a sharp look "Careful Wode, I may be more tolerant than most but I won't have you insulting me before my other subordinates.

Wode looked rebuked. "I'm sorry my Lord but this is just wrong, its unnatural! Men aren't meant to fly!"

Hunter cocked an eyebrow "What about the dragon riders of history?"

Wode stood his ground somewhat, "The dragons were flying not the people!

Hunter took a deep breath and mustered his patience, he knew it was difficult for some "So by your logic, people will not be flying"

"That!" Wode declared as the conclusion of his argument "is not a dragon".

"That" was the first hot air balloon in Westeros's history. It was tethered in an open field and completely inflated, only awaiting its pilot. Among many firsts in recent history. Many of the important figures in the United Kingdom had gathered to watch its launch and more than a few of them shared the generals concern. Hunter would not be deterred however. He motioned for the volunteer test pilot to come forth.

The pilot was seventeen-year-old Corporal Jimmy Irons. He was a former squire to a knight that had been slain in the battle of Winterfell who had transferred to the regular army and distinguished himself quickly. He was of slight build with a large bush of untamable red hair. He had about him the sort of nervous energy that rabbits usually displayed. A broad smile was plastered on his face and he was nearly bouncing in excitement as he stepped in to the basket of the balloon. Hunter shut the door behind him. "Corporal Irons. I have a few words to say but would you care to speak first?"

"Speak first?" Irons seamed to squeak,

"Sure!" Hunter said generously "You are the bold adventurer here; you deserve the honor!"

Irons cleared his throat. "I do have a few words prepared." He paused and deepened his voice to make his statement as dramatic as possible under the circumstances. "This is one small step for a man and one great leap for Mankind!"

Hunter was stunned speechless. How could that son of a bitch have stolen my historic lines! How the hell could that be possible?! Is Jimmy Irons like me?! He then caught Sansa trying to hide a smile and he realized who the culprit was. Very well, that meant war. It was going to be a cold couple of weeks in White Harbor for one Sansa Whent!

Irons looked proudly at Hunter. "Well my lord, what did you want to say"

Hunter shook his head, "I could not think of finer words to describe this moment. Carry on Corporal."

They watched as the balloon rose and rose into the sky with varying degrees of wonder. "How does he report to the people on the ground?" Lord Manderly inquired. A horn blew from the balloon and a rock dropped to the ground.

An aid picked up the rock and handed it to Hunter. He unwound the note wrapped around the rock. "Like this!" Hunter said with a grin. The horn blew again and again and the party looked around in confusion and Hunter read the note before him "Stannis's banner on the horizon". "The balloon is paying off already, send word down the line; prepare for battle. Time for revenge!" As the soldiers scrambled to follow their orders another rock fell. It read; "Correction, the Stannis has fallen, the dead approach". Hunter stared at the message for what felt like an eternity "GENERAL!" he screamed.

 _Journal Entry (January 302)_

 _The dead are attacking, they are sending small forces against the Winter Line all over, probing, testing. I think they are trying to attrite me to death which is interesting, either they don't have the manpower to make a big breakthrough or they believe I am simply too powerful at the moment and need to be worn down. I'll take it for the moment. Every hour brings the dragons closer to the front lines. Why don't I talk about those fucking dragons while I'm at this?_

 _Daenerys has landed in Westeros. This should be the answer to all my prayers but it just goes to show you shouldn't take a T.V. show for granted in life or death planning. All my machinations have left Westeros ready for her to take without a fight. She managed to create a fight for herself in her demands for revenge against the Lannisters which lead to several short and bloody sieges. Tommen is dead by the hands of her dragons or so I hear. Ellaria in Dorne took the opportunity to launch a campaign against the Reach for revenge as well that the queen needs to put down, most likely in her usual bloody style._

 _I need her here; I send letters everyday trying to get her to come north but she replies that she will see to our needs as soon as possible. The letters that return have different hand writing. I do believe I am being ignored. I am reconsidering the wisdom of accepting her as queen._

February 302

Two conquerors met upon an open field under the cold, harsh gaze of the early morning sun on a clear winter day. Each left the safety of their army and rode towards the center of the field with a handpicked entourage of close advisors and powerful allies to meet.

As Lord Hunter Whent slowed his horse to a stop he called out to his opposite number in order to get the first word in "Queen Daenerys Targaryen, your reputation proceeds you."

Daenerys affected an imperious stance and expression. "And you as well Lord Whent, or is it King now?"

Hunter shook his head and smiled slightly "No, not King. There hasn't been a king or queen in the past thirty years who hasn't died horribly besides you. I commend your courage your Grace"

The queen seemed to receive more of the backhand than the compliment from that remark. "As you are aware, I have come to reestablish my families rightful rule over the Westeros. I had thought you to be an ally but during my campaign in the south you failed to declare for me, why?"

Hunter looked her dead in the eye "I needed you to come north with your dragons now, not after you were settled comfortably in Kings Landing."

Anger flashed in Daenerys's eyes "I am your queen; you do not decide where I must or must not go. You have formed what is essentially an independent kingdom within my realm. It will end."

That in turn got Hunter's blood boiling "We are months, perhaps weeks away from extinction as a species. Set aside your ego for a moment. My realm, my kingdom, your queen. Practically declaring war on me out of hand. Now is not the time to fight amongst ourselves, if we live we can kill each other then if you truly insist."

"Are you saying that you will not acknowledge your rightful ruler?"

Hunter took a deep breath "By what right are you my ruler. I had thought to accept you upon your arrival but now I find myself in doubt. You landed unopposed in Kings landing and managed to create many enemies. You bogged yourself down in a bloody campaign in the south, secure in the knowledge that the United Kingdoms would do the dying in the war against the White Walkers while you punished your enemies. It makes me wonder if you are who you say you are!"

Daenerys growled "Careful Whent I have dragons to prove who I am"

Hunter snorted "Others throughout history have harnessed magic and dragon and I could find a dozen women in today who share your infamous Targaryen looks."

Both entourages were on edge from the growing tension between the two conquerors. The Queen declared "I have claimed my birthright through fire and blood!"

Hunter was nearly quivering with rage at this point. "There were forty million people in "your realm" when you still lived in Pentos. At least eight million have died since then while you were playing in the east and that number is incomplete. Do you have any concept of what that truly mean? At least one in five people in Westeros that was alive four years ago has died and they are still dying like flies. A civil war, famine, disease, migration, a religious uprising, an army of the dead, the entire North dying in a demonic winter and your fucking invasion on top of it all. Do not lecture me about fire and blood! Any man, woman or child in the United Kingdoms has seen more of both than you have. And you come here to condemn us for doing what we needed to survive. You come here to kill us until we submit even with extinction upon us!"

Tyrion Lannister intervened before blood was spilled. "Ladies and gentlemen, we must remember the army of the dead! We cannot fight now! I suggest we withdraw and try again." Both rulers nodded grudgingly.

Hunter said "I'll add to that, I know Tyrion to be capable and honorable. I suggest he and my wife act as intermediaries for the time being, I fear that should you and I attempt to do the same at the moment we would ruin the alliance we so desperately need."

"Very well" the Queen said.

 _Journal Entry (January 302)_

 _I finally have the fucking dragons I need but I also picked up a ruler I don't need. Negotiations for the alliance against the dead have been successful so far but I think both sides expect blood to be shed between the living before the wars end. I will never accept her as queen, I will never accept anyone as king or queen. I'm going to kill Daenerys Targaryen; the only question is if I can do it before she kills me._

 _This has turned into the World War One of Westeros. Whatever happens, there will be no dawn for the age of nobility._


	13. Chapter 13: Fire And Ice

_**Well this came together much quicker than I expected, I started writing this and I did not stop until I was finished. I think you reasonably expect the final chapter of An American in Westeros within a week. Its been a hell of a ride guys and gals and I'm so thankful to have an audience as supportive as you are. I hope you enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for the finale; "Chapter 14: Long Live The Queen"!**_

 ** _Cruen._**

An American in Westeros

Chapter 13

Ice and Fire

March 302

Life at Winterfell had been surprisingly easy for the few remaining members of the Night's Watch if lonely. Somehow the supplies they took with them never ran out. The air was warm and the well water running and clean. Other than the lack of women and children, it seemed as if Winterfell was immune to the demonic winter around them. Lookouts spotted dark shapes moving in the distance but nothing was positively identified.

All in all life was actually pretty boring for the remaining members of the Night's Watch until the day the Lord of Winterfell returned. On that day, two people on horseback sauntered up to the gate, it was clear to the sentries that the snow was melting before the horses. "Who goes there?" the sentry demanded.

"Bran Stark and Meera Reed" A male voice answered though it seemed to originate from within the sentry's head rather than down below.

"You're a liar, that boy is dead!" the sentry replied.

Instead of arguing further, the horse began to canter towards the gates. The sentry watched incredulously as the gates swung open of their own accord. All the watchmen ran out to see why the gates were opening. Jon Snow was flabbergasted when he saw his long lost brother in the courtyard. He sprinted to the horse and practically yanked Bran of the horse as he gave him a hug. "Bran!" he said "Bran, Bran, Bran I thought you were dead, I thought I would never see you again. How are you here? Why are you here?"

Bran cut him off. "I know you have many questions Jon but we must reach the key, please take me to the crypt, we are all running out of time."

* * *

"…And then the when she found the honeycomb she was so startled she fell out the window!" Tyrion concluded whilst making grand and ludicrous motions with his arms and hands. Sansa roared with very unladylike laughter spurring the grinning man to start laughing himself. They're laughter kept escalating because of the sight of the other one until Sansa managed to knock her wineglass onto the floor. They both briefly paused and stared at the shattered glass and the puddle on the floor before bursting out with another round of laughter. It was manic, almost hysterical laughter, the kind of which comes from those who have little reason to laugh at any part of their lives. They had been swapping stories and jokes for several hours now. Negotiations had concluded rather early in the evening and so they spent the time trying to for their lives with wine and laughter. It could only be sustained for so long however for in the deep calm that follows such great bouts of laughter, dark thoughts returned to both of them.

They had become fast friends during the days that they had worked together and had come to recognize the looks that each other had on their faces. "It will work." Sansa said to Tyrion.

He looked deeply into his wine glass and was silent for a great deal of time before saying "What if it doesn't?"

Sansa reached out to touch him on the shoulder, she almost missed but she wasn't too far gone. "Then we all die, quickly. We have to have faith in the plan because if it doesn't work then nothing will matter at all."

He nodded and a contemplative silence fell on the room. "She's going to kill him." Tyrion whispered.

Sansa didn't react at all other than saying in a sad voice "He'll try first"

"They could accomplish great things together but their personalities, their goals…it will never be, it will only end in terrible bloodshed like everything else. I've tried to steer her away from it and gods know I'll keep trying but…" he trailed off sadly.

"Me too" Sansa said. There was really nothing more to say.

* * *

It was god knows when in the morning and there was no chance that Hunter was anywhere near sleep. His office in White Harbor keep greatly resembled the others he maintained. Bookshelves lined the wall, filled with leather-bound tomes. Drawings of all kinds plastered the walls and maps covered every other spare surface, a large wood carved eagle that he had carried since his early days in Harrenhal sat on the table holding open a particularly stubborn scroll in conjunction with a rock. The office was nearly in ruins on this night. Papers were scattered all over the floor, books were tossed aside in every corner and many rare and valuable items and pieces of furniture had been tipped over or smashed. Boot prints on the backs of papers indicated where he had been pacing throughout the night. None of it would work, nothing held the answer. There was no way to get enough people in one place to win a decisive victory, there was no way to annihilate an army of the dead hundreds of thousands if not millions strong with the numbers he had even with dragons. Hell even if he had 21st century weapons he was not sure it could be done. He finally collapsed into the leather arm chair at his desk and held his head in his hands in despair. He broke down then and started crying. All the death, all the pain, all the effort and now it had all come to an end.

He cried for a long time, sobbing openly and loudly in the privacy of his office. He wished that someone would come across him and comfort him, Sansa perhaps. No one came, he was alone in the early morning. Eventually the tears slowed and as they always must, in the end they stopped. He felt a little better and felt ready to go to bed. He pulled up a pillow he kept in his office for late nights and place it on the desk. Then a voice behind him whispered "Whent".

Hunter yelped in surprise and whipped around while snatching a letter opener from the desk. Behind him was not the expected assassin but what could only be described as a ghost boy. The apparition was pale and transparent. The boy it seemed to be was decked in luxurious furs and wore a direwolf pin. "I am Bran Stark, heed my words for time is short". The apparition pointed at a map on the wall. "The dead shall attack with full force here…" He stabbed his finger at the section of the Winter Line closest to White Harbor "…in six days. I Influenced their actions to make this so. You must be there with all the might you can muster. At dusk all the dead in Westeros will attack, you must hold until the break of dawn."

Hunter was freaked out but kept enough of his nerve to engage the ghost of Bran Stark. "All of the dead, how many are there?"

Bran looked him dead in the eye. "Millions"

Hunter fell into an even deeper despair. I can marshal 20,000 men to that point if I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel maybe more plus the three dragons. It's not enough, we can't hold!"

"Then this world will die" Bran said simply.

Hunter began to weep again. It was too much to look the end of existence in the face.

Bran's voice became more comforting "Fear not outworlder you have lived two lifetimes, more than most get. And there is yet hope. You must take the Night King's attention and his forces so that another may kill him."

In the weirdness and despair of the moment, Hunter temporarily glossed over Bran's knowledge of his true identity and grabbed onto the glimmer of hope he was being offered. "Kill the Night's King, will that end it? Will that save us?"

"It is our only chance" Bran replied.

Hunter nodded, resolved "We will hold until dawn."

Bran began to fade "Farewell Hunter, you will never return to your world, but you may yet live a long life here."

Hunter sat for several minutes in silence processing what had happened. He then leapt from his chair in a burst of energy shoved everything off of his desk. He then ripped down the map Bran had pointed at and spread it over the desk, he picked the rock and the eagle back up and used them to once again hold his paper in place. He stared at the map and did calculations in his head. He could picture the armies moving across the map. He could remember the geography of the location and the fortifications that had been built there. He pictured the improvements that could be made in six days. It wasn't ideal, it didn't even rise to the category of "just okay". It was something though. It probably couldn't be done but probably didn't mean certainly not.

He threw open his office door and practically screamed at the men standing guard. "Go get Wode, get everyone up know and tell them to meet in the great hall, even the Queen. Tell them to start rallying the troops. No! Find as many people as you can and order them to carry messages to all of the unit commanders they can find. They are to ready for a forced march immediately while the senior officers and lords confer!"

"Yes my Lord!" the startled guards shouted in unison before the sprinting down the halls to carry out their orders.

None were happy to be assembled in the great hall before the first rays of dawn reached them but all came as quickly as they could, even the Queen. Hunter had laid out the largest map he could showing the area around White Harbor on the high table at the head of the hall and all were gathered around it. "Are we under attack?" Seneschal Grimsby asked nervously.

Hunter shook his head "We will be soon, I have intelligence that they will attack here…" he pointed at the spot on the map Bran had shown him "…in six days with all their might. We will meet them there with all the forces we can muster!"

Lord General Wode looked down at the map "You want to face them in Massey's Wood? I though the plan was to let them break through while we gather our forces to react?" A murmur rose from the gathered crowd.

"Look" Hunter said. "We are losing, it's hard to admit but we are being cut to pieces slowly, we can't sustain that. Unless we gamble big and win bigger every man woman and child is going to die, horribly in most cases. I am not saying we have a good chance, I am saying we have no other choice, this war will be decided in Massey's Wood, there will be no retreat, only victory or death." There were many uncomfortable looks amongst the gathered crowd but no one said a word, they all knew the numbers, they had heard the reports. They could not offer an alternative.

Finally, it was Tyrion that broke the silence. "What is the plan then?"

With one sentence, the die was cast for the fate of Westeros. Hunter and the Daenerys began to marshal their forces and the others began to break up into smaller groups based on their duties and areas of expertise. Oddly enough, their spirits lifted. Though they faced almost certain death, there was a plan and the waiting was over. For some, that was enough.

As dawn began to rise over White Harbor and its citizens entered the streets, the first companies of dragoons, unsullied and United Kingdom soldiers began to march to battle arm in arm. For a brief, glorious moment in history, all divisions were set aside and all men and women united as humans, standing together on the precipice of oblivion.

* * *

The Massey's Wood Sector of the Winter Line being so close to White Harbor was garrisoned primarily by the members of the Vale's expeditionary force. In the section where they waited the enemy nearly 23,000 men had been assembled over the last six days. Many had arrived exhausted after forced march but they had made it in time.

They had dug in along a ridge of short, squat hills and cut the forest back nearly a half mile in all directions. The lumber had been used to create a palisade and a series of small outposts and forts. In time since the first messages had arrived, the engineer companies had made a heroic effort with the aid of every able pair of hands. Deep trenches had been dug along the entire line to trap the approaching enemy. Hundreds of square miles of barbed wire had been placed ahead of the trenches in order to entangle the approaching enemy leaving them helpless to arrow fire. Behind the palisade positions had been constructed for 34 cannons and seventy trebuchets and ballistae with shelters for each artillery piece's individual ammo. Shelters had been erected to house the new arrivals and cater to their needs. Nearly four thousand civilians answered the call of duty to help dig latrines, cook meals and aid in construction freeing up soldiers to get a few hours of sleep and a warm meal every now and then.

Dragoons ranged out constantly to keep tabs on the growing enemy and Daenerys flew over enemy territory to do the same. As the days went by, fewer and fewer of the scouts returned but still they ventured out with grim-faced, almost fatalistic resolve.

As the afternoon of the sixth day drew to a close, all of the soldiers along the line manned their posts after getting an extra-large and delicious meal and several hours of sleep. Long shadows grew from the tree line and stretched out across the open field to the army of the living like the long, fingers on a sinister hand. Dark shapes could be seen gathering in the tree line as time went on. The tension amongst the army of the living was like nothing any of them had ever felt before but not one of them ran. A few had tried to desert in the early days but all who manned the line today understood there was nowhere to run to. Instead they waited and watched.

Nearing twilight, officers all along the way opened sealed scrolls they had been given as one. Upon the scrolls was written the same words that Lord Hunter Whent of the United Kingdoms began to say to the himself as he trotted along the lines on horseback. Nearly as one the words were heard by all standing ready to do battle. "Comrades!" Hunter shouted "Brothers and sisters in arms! This is it! Creation itself lies in the balance tonight. The army of the dead will attack soon and we are the only force that can stop them. If we fail tonight, then the History of our great nation shall end forever. And so I order this, not one step back! We shall yield them no ground! As they have brought hell to our doorstep so too shall we rain hell upon them tonight! We your leaders, Lord Whent and Queen Daenerys Targaryen shall stand with you to the very end. Stand firm, stand fast and we shall be victorious! Good luck and God's Speed!" It was a short speech but everyone heard it and all stood straighter at their posts for doing so.

Soon the sun began to sink behind the horizon and the shapes in the forest coalesced into an ocean of the dead waiting within the trees. When the sun finally did sink away completely the dead began to move/ First one stepped onto the field, then a dozen, then a hundred and more continued to come. "Prepare to send the signal" Hunter ordered his nearest aid. The dead began to close, they said nothing but the sound of their feet pounding the ground and the clatter of their armor grew to an almost unbearable level before Hunter said "Send the Signal!"

Once the command had been given, a ruby red flare shot into the night's sky. All along the line flares went up to spread the message to the entire frontline. In answer, all 34 cannons fired as one, ripping long columns into the sea of the dead as the cannons skipped along the hard ground. Trebuchets began to fling pots of wildfire that created a great green conflaguration that grew to consume huge chunks of the oncoming horde. The Queen's dragons shrieked as they took flight over the battlefield. They swooped over the forest that the dead were emerging from and with great, long breaths of fire began to immolate the forest. All along the field of battle fire spread to catch the enemy in their hundreds and thousands yet still they advanced. Their master always had more corpse-puppets to throw into the battle. As they closed within range, many thousands of archers from all units loosed their flaming arrows in a great volley that struck down many more of the dead yet still they advanced.

The barbed wire fields proved to be a greater obstacle than anything that had been put in the dead's path in the past. Great multitudes were caught in row after row of the wire with subsequent waves having to climb over their fallen comrades only to form the bottom of the next bridge. It took quite a while for the dead to make any progress over this obstacle. When they finally did get within range, Harrenhal flame troops in their signature gas masks began to pump their flame throwers to roast the dead stuck on the barbed wire. The smoke and steam rising from the field of battle turned into a choking mixture that obfuscated the battlefield and caused great discomfort to the army of the living. The smell of the long dead burning en masse was overwhelming and several soldiers puked at their stations.

Hunter smiled grimly as he observed the battle from horseback. Things were going as well as could be expected. The wood was now an inferno that consumed many of the dead before they reached the line. The dragons were swooping down and scooping up large clawfuls of the dead and dropping them from a great height even as they breathed more fire. All that change when a new sound reached the ears of the living. It was the sound of a great and ancient beast entering combat. From over the horizon, a giant dragon of ice and bone flew into battle at terrifying speed. It was bigger than the largest Daenerys had. It had no living tissue, instead it was formed out of living ice with giant bones protruding. That it could fly defied all natural laws and pointed even more to its magical origins. It flew over the battlefield and released a wave of ice and cold from its maw that carved a path through the conflagration. The fire was smothered and the dead and the living alike were frozen in place. Officers barked and screamed at the reserves to fill the line but the dead were quicker to fill the gap. Soon the trenches beyond the barbed wire were filling with zombies trying to scramble their way up and onto the palisade. Pitch and oil was poured into the trenches to turn them into a crematorium.

In the skies the dragons of ice and fire danced, darting left and right, making dangerous dives and desperate climbs. The smaller fire dragons were faster and more maneuverable. Like a pack of wolves, they swarmed around their larger target and struck at its exposed extremities. It appeared to be working as the ice dragon was roaring in pain and slowing down. Then, it whipped around faster than anyone had thought possible and seized the bronze Rhaegal, smallest of the dragons, in its claws and slowly ripped it in half as it died screaming. That enraged Daenerys who guided Drogon, the largest of the dragons, to dive full speed into the ice dragon's back forcing it to crash into the ground. On the ground it was prey for the marksmen with rifled muskets that were spread along the line. The ice dragon roared in furry at the bullet wounds and moved to rip through the lines with its claws. Searing flame washed over its back and Drogon seized its exposed tail and began tearing into its exposed rear. At that time the third fire dragon Viserion attacked, beginning to ravage its flank. The ice dragon spun this way and that to reach its assailants but wherever it turned it exposed itself to new attacks. The ice dragon died slowly and had to be torn into many pieces and roasted but in the end the deed was done. Unfortunately, the time spent on the ground killing the ice dragon allowed the dead to close and wound both the fire dragons severely forcing them to take flight and retreat to safety so they could be offered what healing was available before being thrown back into the fight.

As time went on, the living became even more hard pressed, the fires could not consume the dead quickly enough and the dead finally began reaching the palisade over mountains of their fallen brethren. Everywhere they met the living they were met by the spears of the Unsullied, the axes of the Free-Folk, and the swords of the Westerosi. Throughout it all, Hunter was riding back and forth along the line to where the fighting was thickest. He drove his men and women to fight on, he fired his pistols into the crowds of the dead and he commanded. Everywhere he went he managed to stabilize the situation with reinforcements, force of arms and boosted morale. Hours and hours passed this until no-one had any idea what time it was.

When they felt that their corpse-puppets had softened the living enough, the white walkers began to advance. Every White Walker save the Night's King, all two hundred of them, began to advance. With them continued to go the endless legion of the dead but they were joined by undead and unnatural beasts. Bears, wolves and the fabled ice spiders began to charge in hordes. When they reached the palisade all hell broke loose and they finally made a breakthrough. A section of the line thirty yards wide fell and the gap began to expand. Rallying all the cavalry he had still under his command, Hunter charged into the breach. Even in the deafening noise of a battle of this scale, the thundering hooves and the screams of their riders could be heard by all nearby clearly. Hunter was not in the lead, that task fell to the young captain Grimsby and his lancers. Instead Hunter was in the heart of the formation. Because of that he did not see the impact their charge made instead he had to maneuver his horse so as not to be crushed in the press of battle while he tried to find the enemy. Suddenly, the horse in front of him was tackled by and ice spider and it and its rider died in slow agony. The spider was monstrous and made Hunter nearly turn and run right there but instead He drew from his brace of pistols with each hand fired into the ice spider's back. The pistols had many disadvantages to the ones he had grown up around but they were of an extremely large caliber. At this range a pair of first sized holes were ripped into the ice spider and hot blood spurted out of it as it rolled over and died. "It must have been alive" Hunter thought to himself before stowing his used guns and drawing his saber and a third pistol. The battle around the breach was devolving into a wild melee with little order. Hunter hacked and shot his way through the foes that passed his dwindling bodyguard. He eventually pointed his last loaded pistol at a zombie that looked all too familiar. It was the corpse of Stannis Baratheon, resplendent in his kingly armor and still wearing a crown upon his head. Hunter paused for only a moment before he pulled the trigger and Stannis's head disappeared as the hand cannon round connected.

The tide of the battle had decisively turned, as Hunter and his remaining bodyguards cut their way to the nearest observation point, he could see that another decisive breakthrough had been made further down the line, the dragons still had not returned to the battle. His heart sank, they had lost the battle. Then, in a moment that bards would never believe, the first glow of dawn began to rise over the horizon and a light that seemed like a star, burning bright appeared over the forest and began to move towards them. "What the hell is that?" Hunter asked nobody in particular.

* * *

At the head of a small V comprised of his remaining brothers in arms, Jon Snow thundered towards the rear of the army of the dead, obsidian tipped lance in hand. They had ridden day and night from Winterfell at full gallop without stopping yet just as Bran had promised, they did not grow tired or thirsty, they did not get bruises from riding so much nor did they feel hungry. Instead, with the weight of the world on their shoulders, they had pushed on and on through the land of the dead.

They followed a great star that had lead them to their destination. The star had now raced ahead and hovered over one location and pulsed white light indicating that their goal was at hand. Jon could hear the overwhelming din of battle growing more and more until it was almost deafening. They passed unopposed through the burned land where ash had come to replace the snow until finally, Jon saw his target. The Nights King was sitting on horseback surrounded by a motionless circle of the dead. As one, the dead turned and charged towards the brethren of the Night's Watch. It was meaningless, they were all trampled underfoot without dealing a single casualty. Lance felled bears, ice spiders and more as the cut their way through. Jon's lance connected with the motionless monster, impaling it in the chest and knocking it from its horse. Jon's grip was too strong though and when the lance did not shatter, he felt himself being pulled down with it.

Coughing and wheezing from the impact and the ash he was breathing in, Jon struggled to stand again. When he did, he saw the Night's King slowly pulling the length of the lance out of his chest while looking at Jon. It seemed as though Jon finally had the Night's King's full attention. The monster screamed and began to advance on him. It lifted its palm to cast a terrible spell only to be stopped. The Ghost of Bran appeared and held the Night's King in place. He shouted "Jon! The Key! Now!"

The Key was the ceremonial dagger used in the creation of the Night's King untold thousands of years ago that had been hidden by the first Starks at Winterfell in case the White Walkers were ever to return. Jon withdrew it from its sheath on his hip and thrust it into the chest of the struggling monster. He pulled it down with all his might and opened a long, jagged wound. He then reached into the chest of the Night's King and ripped out its heart with all his might. The Night's King fell, silently and motionless yet the heart still beat. Even with gloves, the cold emanating from the black and beating heart burned his hand, He stabbed into the heart with the key and he was briefly blinded as a light brighter than any had ever seen before flashed out across the sky, even on the far side of the world in Qarth, people would wonder what the light was.

* * *

And it was over. All the dead collapsed as one as did the White Walkers and the other monstrosities they had unleashed. With the death of the Night's King the spell holding everything together had been broke. A great cheer rose from those few still among the living. Some danced, some cried but many just sat down in exhaustion. Hunter wished to join them but he had a long day ahead of him still.

In the end, few were left to celebrate the victory. Of the 23,000 soldiers that had entered the battle, only 9,000 were left alive and many were wounded. Hundreds of the civilians who had been helping also died as they took up arms to heroically fill the gaps. Theon Greyjoy, Grey Worm and Jorah Mormont were just a few of the notable dead. It took weeks to finally dispose of the bodies, what was left of Massey's wood was consumed in the fires that were used in disposed of the bodies.

The queen and her forces withdrew quietly the next night without incident and Hunter's forces were in no shape to make an issue of it. That issue would be settled another day, the eve of victory over extinction was not the proper time for that.

Winter began to retreat; it was still cold, there was still snow but it was nothing the Northerners couldn't deal with. Over the coming weeks, many of the remaining northerners began to push north to start the slow, agonizing process of reclaiming their ancestral homes.

As for Hunter himself, for the first time in many years, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted for nearly a day. He had earned it.


	14. Chapter 14: Long Live the Queen

_**This has been quite the journey for me. I wrote the first bit of this on the back of an old notebook when I was bored and I thought it was a funny idea. Now it has turned into my first story that I have written beginning to end. I am proud of it and I am so happy with my readership. Several times I seriously considered stopping. You ladies and gentlemen have kept me going. Thank you.**_

 _ **I urge you to keep following this story as I will be posting the rewritten and expanded upon 2.0 version as subsequent chapters. Keep an eye out for some potential side stories as well. If you have request or suggestions I am always happy to hear them.**_

 _ **Enjoy.**_

 _ **P.S. Thanks for responding to the test chapter. I saw your responses on in my email on my phone so it seems the problem is with my computer.**_

 _ **P.P.S. There will be an epilogue**_

An American in Westeros

Chapter 14

Long Live the Queen

 _Journal Entry (May 302)_

 _Life has slowed down in recent weeks and for that I am profoundly grateful. All of the wars of the realm have died down. For the first time in god knows how long the world can take a breather. I wish it could have been a different way however, things haven't calmed down because we have resolved our differences. Things have calmed down because we have almost run out of people to kill. My agents report that the war between Dorne and the Reach was far bloodier than I had originally thought. On top of that, Stannis is dead, the Lannisters are gone as are the Martells, the Tyrells, and the Baratheon's. The Tully's are broken and the Starks have returned to Winterfell a shadow of their former selves. Lord Arryn has passed after a prolonged sickness leaving the new Harrold Arryn, a man far more easy to work with. Immediately after his accession to the lordship of the Eyrie he accepted my standing invitation for the Vale to enter the United Kingdoms. We have gone from eight major powers in Westeros to two. The remnants of the United Kingdom and the Iron Throne._

 _There is now a cold war settling in between two powers. To the north, the very advanced but sparsely populated Riverlands, Eyrie, North and a good chunk of the Crownlands and the Westerlands. To the south is Daenerys with the backwards but numerous Reach, Dorne, the Iron Islands and parts of the Crownlands and Westerlands. I imagine it will go hot soon. With every passing day we open the gap between the two powers and increase our population. They have to strike soon or they will never be able to._

 _Diplomats are working hard even now to keep a hot war from starting. Sansa convinced me to let her go as the head of the delegation. It worries me that she is back in King's Landing under the control of a somewhat hostile monarch but she really was the natural choice for the job._

 _Bran Stark is the new Lord of Winterfell and the leader of the North. Though he has few people to govern, he seems oddly capable in his new role. Perhaps I should not be too surprised, rumors are spreading of his magic powers so I can see why he might be good at a large number of things. Ignoring all the potential political choices, Bran and Meera Reed are set to be married in six months. It will be nice to attend a wedding after the endless funerals that we have seen these past few years. He visited me in my office late at night with his ghost and we had a frank discussion. I convinced him that Jon Snow should not know his true heritage. Instead, he has been legitimized as a true Stark and from now to the end of time he shall remain so. We always need more capable leaders to head our reconstruction efforts in the North._

 _I feared that the North would take centuries to recover. It might not be so, we offered citizenship to any willing to settle the recently emptied land and we are already getting settlers from all over Westeros and even from Essos. Of course, we get Daenerys raising a stink about foreigners which is hilarious. She is basically a foreigner and a lot of her army are foreigners. No, she is upset that we are rebuilding our population to a point which she might see as a real threat._

 _With the wall gone as well as the White Walkers and the remaining free-folk living amongst the northerners, there is no more reason for the Night's Watch to exist. All thirty remaining members of the watch have been pardoned of their crimes and relieved of their pledges. It was a gesture of great symbolic value even if it meant little in reality. The people see it as a symbol of their victory and of the new world we have entered. I suspect that a handful of the men will get into trouble and be thrown in prison again or executed but even so, I believe it was the right choice._

* * *

July 302

Within the throne room of the Red Keep, Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons sat proudly upon the Iron Throne as she watched her subjects fill the room. Today was a special day, all who could attend were squished into the throne room under the watchful gaze of her unsullied honor guard. Most of those filling the chamber would not have been important enough to do so just a few years earlier but those years had been hard on their peers. Once the room was filled the Queen held her hand up for silence. As the murmur died down she motioned for a herald in expensive, almost gaudy robes to come forward.

The herald came forward and knelt at the feet of the Iron Throne just as the script for this show required.

"What have you brought me my faithful servant?" She inquired, raising her voice for all to hear.

The herald answered without lifting his head yet was still could be clearly understood by those in the furthest corners of the room "Word from the United Kingdoms My Queen!" He said as he lifted up a large scroll with both hands in a gesture of supplication.

"Rise" the Queen said "Tell us what my northern subjects wish to say."

The herald rose and unwound the scroll. Its contents were short, to the point and dramatic. It also was missing much of the original message's nuance. "The United Kingdoms are not and never again shall be ruled from the Iron Throne!" He read slowly with great emphasis on every word.

A gasp rolled through the gathered crowd and whispers began to spread. Again Daenerys raised her hand for silence. She waited for a long time, drawing out the suspense of the moment. She said "This cannot stand, my people I shall gather my army and my dragons. I shall ride north to end this last rebellion. These are the last of our enemies. And so I promise a gift to all of you. I promise to ride north and bring lasting peace to the realm for all!" She was standing at the end and gesturing grandly. The head of her guard shouted "LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!" At the top of his lungs. The rest of the unsullied took up the chant and began to bang the buts of their spears on the floor. The rest of the crowd was swept up in the moment and joined in. Soon the entire Red Keep echoed with chants of "Long live the Queen!"

* * *

 _Journal Entry (August 302)_

 _So the final war begins . I don't know what started it, maybe they realized that they could never keep up in the long run, maybe they were offered an unforgivable insult, in the end it doesn't really matter. I got word that the United Kingdom was at war with the Iron Throne before I heard that Sansa had taken ship to White Harbor before she and her entourage could be taken as hostages which caused no end of worry to me._

 _We are not ready, the Vale is our main force and they will take a long time to assemble. So I ride south from White Harbor to Eagle's Reach with all the dregs I can muster we must hold until the Vale assembles or at least cause enough casualties that the Vale can avenge us and defeat the Iron Throne._

 _I fear that I am writing my final entry as I ride south. I fear I will never see the ones I love again. I fear that all I have built will collapse in my absence. It's not the first time I have felt that way but even when we faced the White Walkers there was a certain fatalism that kept us going. There was no other choice then but fight or die. Now I am choosing to enter a battle I don't expect to win. Clearly any ruler who is unscrupulous enough can find more bodies to put in uniform. Daenerys is gathering a titanic host to face us. They are completely untrained for the most part though, many have never left their villages before, let alone see a fortress with cannons. It should be an interesting matchup._

 _I think back to what I have done, the millions that have died during my time here and though I bear great guilt for many of my actions. I can't help but think that the legacy I leave will be positive. It may be early in our reconstruction process but there is hope in the air. When I have walked the streets and people have recognized me I have only gotten smiles and cheers. Already many of the production facilities are starting to produce civilian goods. Most importantly of all, the geniuses I have in the research villa near old Harrenhal have finally figured out the secrets of in door plumbing. This world, my world must be defended at all costs._

 _I am sending this back with a messenger to White Harbor in case I do not return. Sansa if we never meet again I leave you all my love…and I hope a better world._

 _Goodbye._

* * *

August 302

Eagle's Reach stood defiant of the conquering monarch. Its position along the Kingsroad and so near the capitol could not be ignored so for the second time in recent memory those who resided within it prepared to fight for their lives. The countryside was emptied of all civilians. The land was stripped of anything that could be used to invader's advantage. The fortress had changed since it had last seen battle. All the damage of the previous battle had been repaired. Crude concrete had been used to reinforce key structures. Debris from the construction had been spread around the outer walls to impede the use of ladders or other siege equipment. Barbed Wire stretched out in all directions for as far as their rifles and cannons could reach leaving only a narrow passage along the road into the main gate open. The open passage was a choke point that ran through overlapping fields of fire. Gun ports had been cut into the parapets for the defenders to shoot out at the enemy safely. Cannons had replaced several of the older, more medieval artillery pieces on the swivel mounts atop the towers. Stashes of weapons ranging from pikes to barrels of black powder and crude, matchlock grenades. Thousands of men and women from all walks of life, veterans and recruits, civilians and soldiers all stood ready to defend their home and their freedom.

Dragoons ranged out over the terrain that they had trained on and once again fell upon their enemies at all possible opportunities. The Reachmen in the Queen's army remembered well the terrifying nights they had spent on the same road only a handful of years ago. They spread their tales to all who would listen and by the time the first royalists began to fall the entire army was on edge and sleepless. Hardened by years of unrelenting war, the dragoons were vicious in their attacks upon the invaders. This time they were joined by partisans, many of them veterans who took up whatever weapons they could find. Those among them that had training were armed with rifled muskets in order to pick off scouts from a distance. The partisans were particularly cruel to the invaders. Many a royalist was taken alive, none were ever found that way. They made a particular point of making sure that the bodies of those they captured were left at regular intervals along the road for the enemy to find.

In turn, the royalists were also cruel to those they encountered. Their scouts never could catch the dragoons but the fire dragons could. Dragoons that were caught were roasted alive or shredded and eaten. If the regular army couldn't catch the dragoons, they could certainly catch the many of the partisans. They tortured and publicly executed all those they caught. As they slowly advance up the King's Road they collected their dead and left the corpses of their enemies hanging from trees. There was to be no chivalry or quarter in this campaign, they were animals fighting to the death for survival.

On the day when the Royalist army reached Eagle's Reach, the manpower superiority of the south was made clear. By early morning, what appeared to be an endless ocean of Royalist soldiers surrounded the fortress. The plan was ready, as were the soldiers carrying it out. Hunter decided to wait a little while before starting the battle however and took his time to address his troops. "Brothers and sisters and arms!" he roared "A we face a crossroads in history today. Daenerys Targaryen, Queen on the Iron Throne comes here to take our freedom. Do you wish another ruler in a distant throne who knows and cares nothing of your needs and want?!"

A resounding "NO!" answered him

"Then stand with me! For this is the last battle, there are no more enemies after this. Who can defeat us on our own land? We broke the unstoppable Reach, we stopped the unbeatable dead! Today we are going to kill dragons, today we are going to kill a queen, today we are going to kill an empire!"

A roar of approval answered him. Then a man in the distance began to chant "Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!" Another voice joined in, then a dozen and within moments the entire keep was rocking with men and women chanting his name as he ascended to his command post.

From the ranks of the Royalist answering chants rose to meet them. "Long live the Queen!" They thundered.

"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"

"HUNTER! HUNTER!"

"DAENERYS! DAENERYS!"

"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"

"HUNTER! HUNTER!"

The noise was deafening. Lord General Wode was already waiting at the command post when Hunter had finished his climb. With a conspiratorial smile he said "My Lord, there are so many of the enemy shouting that I'm afraid they can't hear the message that they aren't welcome.

Hunter drew his saber and raised it high above his head "Then we are going to have to speak louder!" He slashed the saber down in a dramatic motion and screamed "FIRE!" and the guns of Eagle's Reach answered his call. Two dozen cannonballs screamed towards the enemy. At this distance they did little damage but they forced the enemy to act.

The Royalists had wanted to wait until nightfall to start clearing the barbed wire but instead they were forced to either attack or retreat. The Targaryen at their head of course chose to attack. Thousands of conscripts from the southern realms began to cut their way through the barbed wire with shovels, swords and any other tool they had scavenged. None were effective as wire cutters though and so progress was slow, especially under constant cannon fire. It took a long time for them to make any significant progress and as they did they came under attack from closer ranged weapons. At the range they were attempting, the rifled muskets couldn't recreate the killing fields of world war one but they did take their toll when fired in volleys from the high walls. Untold numbers of the royalists died advancing to the walls. They died when they were caught in the strangling wire. They died as the hot lead cannonballs ripped through columns of them. They died as muskets punched entry and exit wounds into them. They died as arrows began to rain down upon them. The ways the United Kingdom soldiers killed their foes were legion. The number of bodies they left in the snarling hell scape of barbed wire were countless.

Still the royalists advanced however for even the most advanced weapons Hunter had at his disposal could not kill the enemy quickly enough. Over the course of two agonizing hours Royalist men were thrown into the barbed wire field in much the same fashion as the United Kingdom men threw projectiles into their oncoming foe. Though many Royalists were gripped with fear, few men would try to run with a dragon at their backs.

In anticipation of the dragons, dozens of large, crude barrage balloons tethered to rest at varying heights rose up into the air to obstruct their approach. Gun crews waited tensely at their Dragonlance batteries for the moment when the dragons entered the fray.

That moment came as the first Royalist soldiers finally began to exit the wire field and rush to the relative safety of the wall. Siege ladders were brought through the channels they had paid so dearly to open up. Along the approach to the gate, some of the last of the unsullied valiantly climbed over piles of their own dead to bring a battering ram down the main road and to the main gate. Though they found their footholds precarious amongst the debris, they were not stopped entirely.

To support them, Daenerys finally entered the fight with her dragons. She rode upon the giant Drogon with the smaller one following close behind. They circled around the battlefield again and again, looking for an opening. Upon finding one they raced in for the kill. It was not to be however, as they made quick runs for fire breathing, the barrage balloons absorbed most of the flames. Frustrated, the Queen pushed her dragons for a close attack. As they closed in, the barrage balloons made flying extremely difficult slowing the dragons down, fatally. The dragons were finally in range and moving slow enough for the soldiers on the ground to strike them. Arrows and bullets lashed out at them causing them to scream in pain. They quickly began to withdraw but Viserion took a full Dragonlance battery in the neck and head, it died instantly and slammed into the ground in between the outer and middle walls of Eagle's Reach. Daenerys was overcome with grief and rage at the loss of one of her "children" but she maintained enough control to withdraw rather than attack madly, she had accomplished her objective, her troops were on the outer wall.

The outer wall ran red with blood as ladder after ladder was set against it and thousands of Royalists lined up at the base of the wall to climb. The parapet of the wall was packed with men, there was no room for guns, finesse or even long weapons. Whether a man lived or died often depended on whether he was lucky enough to have enough room to move the arm holding his weapon for a moment rather than skill or bravery. In this, the standard short sword of the United Kingdom proved to be superior over the spears and long swords used by the Royalists. The main gate was choked with the dead and dying as arrows and boiling oil poured out of murder holes but the unsullied would not be stopped until they had been slain to the last man. They broke through, allowing more royalists to pour through the gate only to be confronted with a shield and spear wall that awaited them. The unsullied formed a shield and spear wall of their own and slowly advanced until the two walls were crushing into each other. It was a long and bloody struggle that ended only when the first Royalists managed to escape the wall into the area between the outer and middle walls and struck at the United Kingdom's soldiers from behind.

The outer wall had fallen and there were few survivors on either side but the Queen had many more troops to replace her losses. Soldiers on the middle wall fired without restriction and heavy weapons were brought to bear. They had rebuilt their homes before and so they showed little concern for damage they caused to their own fortress. The Royalists now had to assault the middle wall. They began moving the ladders and the battering ram into position for a repeat of their first assault.

From his command post Hunter could see that the royalists were cutting the tethers of all the barrage balloons that they could reach and shooting arrows at the ones they could not. He turned to Wode and said "When they get enough of the balloons on the middle wall the dragon is going to come back".

Wode looked away from his spyglass and said "I expect you're right" before returning his gaze to the battlefield.

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen had been tending to the wounds of her dragon while the battle progressed. The battle overall did not matter very much to her any more so she left in the hands of her commanders. Instead, bloody thoughts swam through her mind as she imagined over and over again her revenge. She wanted to kill Hunter Whent more than anything in the world and she wanted to do it herself. "My Queen" she heard Yara Greyjoy say to her "Our forces are on the second wall, we have cleared the way for you to attack.

This was it, this was the moment she had been waiting for. It was time to kill Whent. She climbed onto Drogon's back and ready herself to fly. A messenger ran up and said "My Queen, we are under attack from the rear! They fly the banner of the Vale!"

"More rebels" She almost snarled "Yara deal with these traitors, I shall deal the fortress its final blow. This rebellion ends today!" And with that Drogon flapped his wings and practically leaped into the air.

* * *

Hunter couldn't believe his eyes "Wode…it's the Vale!" one else seemed to believe it either. They all stood together and stared in amazement.

"How is this possible?" Lord General Wode asked.

"Who cares? Quickly, we must…shit! Look out!" The last dragon swooped out of the sky to wash flame over the battlements. Dozens were immolated on the inner wall but again, the Queen did not reckon with the power of modern technology. A Dragonlance battery ripped one of Drogon's wings in half causing it to crash to earth. Drogon managed to land on the parapet of the inner wall and a slaughter began. It crushed many soldiers upon its landing and with great sweeps of its claws it knocked many soldiers to their death. With a great burst of flame a large section of the inner wall was cleared of soldiers. Then the dragon at the behest of its rider turned and leaped a stunning distance into the side of the tower that Hunter's command post was on. Its powerful claws dug into the stone and it began to climb up, shaking the tower.

The dragon reached the top and washed flame over the command post, roasting all those who were not quick enough to dive to the ground. As Hunter looked up he saw a massive claw bat several members of his entourage off the tower and it scooped up Wode in its mouth before swallowing him whole. He could see Daenerys on the dragons back, the fires of madness clear in her eyes. Desperately he reached for his pistol. As the dragon opened its mouth and lunged to eat him as well he fired into its gaping maw piercing the soft layer between the mouth and the brain. The dragon screamed and flailed as it died causing great damage and as it finally collapsed Hunter felt the tower break underneath him. There was a sensation of falling. Then everything went black.

When Hunter awoke the first thing he felt was pain. He was in a cavity under a pile of wreckage and debris, he could see no exit around him. A giant claw was hanging from the ceiling and a spattering of light was leaking through. The light was enough to see that he had fallen on a pile of sharp debris and torn himself up badly. He pushed himself upright and leaned his back against a wall with a groan of pain. He saw that there were bodies all around him and one of them was moving.

"Your awake" Daenerys said from across the room. She did not look in as bad shape as he did but upon closer inspection it was clear that many things in her body were broken. "Listen" She said. When he did he realized that he could no longer hear the sounds of battle, clearly they had been here for a while. Then he thought he faintly heard the sounds of scrapping and voice. "My men are digging us out as we speak. From the looks of it you won't last that long" she said triumphantly "I'm glad that I was the one to deal the fatal blow!"

"You may have killed me today but I have killed your nation, I have killed your dynasty, I have killed your culture. There aren't enough people left to fill every job so now employers will have to compete with each other for workers with better pay, a better life. Eventually everyone will have money and an education. Then what will make you nobles so special? Can you imagine it; a world where all that matters is a person's merit and blood will mean nothing? Where there is no nobility left?"

"Your delusional" she spat, "an insane monster!"

"No, I didn't think so" He said with disdain, he looked down at his wounds to see blood flowing down his torso, too much blood. He reached down and picked up a discarded pistol from a fallen artilleryman.

The sounds of men digging through the rubble to reach them were becoming clear, voices could be faintly heard over the din of battle but there was no way of telling whose side they belonged to.

Despite the clear pain Daenerys managed to smile. "My men will reach us in moments."

Hunter shook his head "Neither of us has any clue who is winning out there, all we can do is wait and see. Are you a betting woman?"

In agony, Daenerys managed to push herself to her feet. "I don't gamble, I have won. Surrender personally and order the United Kingdoms to stand down and I will show you mercy. If you don't you will learn the true price of defying your queen!" She looked expectant, almost as if she was in awe of her own commanding presence.

Hunter just looked up at her, smiled as he raised his pistol in salute of the last of the Targaryens and said "long live the queen." And with a sound of thunder our tale comes to a close.

 _ **The End**_


	15. Epilogue

An American in Westeros

Epilogue

 _While the timely arrival of the Vale ensured the complete destruction of the Iron Throne's military power, they were not in time to save the garrison. When Queen Daenerys's exhausted troops clashed with the forces of the Vale they fought to the death in almost every case. The surviving Royalists were forced to retreat into the fortress they had just scoured of life and the forces of the Vale drew their own siege lines with the attention of recuperating throughout the night and assaulting in the morning through the same breaches the Royalists had made._

 _The Royalists worked through the night to repair the damage they had done and in doing so they uncovered the makeshift tomb of both monarchs. Out of respect they held a public service for their queen which. The effect of the service was immediate, word spread of their monarch's demise along with the last of their dragons and morale plummeted._

 _When scouts reported hearing the chants and songs of the funeral service the forces of the Vale struck immediately and ripped through the disheartened defenders with shocking ease and for the second time in a day, the defenders of Eagle's Reach were slaughtered to the last man._

 _For the first time in its existence, there was no claimant for the Iron Throne. With the power of the Iron Throne shattered, Dorne, the Iron Islands and the Reach swiftly declared their independence and began establishing their rival kingdoms. Only the Stormlands remained with the Iron Throne and then only tenuously. Throughout the centuries many would attempt to reestablish the Iron Throne's dominion over all of Westeros, none would succeed._

 _All of the United Kingdom mourned the loss of their beloved leader and his sacrifice was never forgotten as it was passed down in song and legend through generations. It was the bereaved Sansa Whent that became the sole ruler of the United Kingdom as she had previously. She carried her late husband's vision forward and gave birth to a single child that carried the name of Gideon Whent who would be their successor. The powerful figures in the society of strove to maintain and grow their influence but Sansa always countered them. Sabotage, false information and greed were harnessed to pit the powerful interests against each other._

 _In that environment, a renaissance began to grow with the nurturing and guidance of Sansa. Art, technology and social though all exploded in the United Kingdoms. As she reached the end of her life, workers unions had begun to form and a bureaucracy had been formed that had the power to challenge the tiny remaining noble element for control of the United Kingdoms. She died comfortably in bed, surrounded by her family and secure in the knowledge that the Whent legacy would go on._

 _History went on as it does. Wars, plagues financial crisis and revolutions came and went throughout Westeros just as they had done in the past but throughout all the triumphs and tribulations, the Whent legacy endured and countless generations later when the world of Westeros began to resemble our own, the Whent name went lived on and was celebrated by all. Though the common people had taken power into their own hands and electricity and trains replaced lamp oil and carts, the Whent family would always reside in Eagle's Reach, the cradle of freedom._


	16. An American In Westeros v2 chapter 1

2.0 is beginning! An American in Westeros, better edited and expanded. I promise at least an extra thousand words for each chapter minimum. Particularly as we get into the later chapters you can expect more.

You can also expect if not side stories than at least parallel stories. There are many more people in the world than the original focused on. What did Willis Wode think of indoor plumbing? What did Cersei and Whent talk about during his time in King's Landing? Where did Harry Bracken, regent of Harrenhal go after the first chapter? What are the personal thoughts of the ordinary citizens living through the changes that are brought about? Who knows? (I don't, not yet at least) We are going to find out together.

The story will be similar to the original but it may evolve in new and unexpected ways, these things take on a life of their own once they get going.

An American in Westeros 2.0

Chapter 1

Arrival

 _Journal Entry (Date: ?)_

 _Good news, I'm not dead! (Maybe)_

 _Bad news, I'm certainly going to die horribly! (Probably)_

 _I'll elaborate dear Journal because you are the only one I can ever relate all of this to and frankly I will go NUTS without letting this all out. I was an American. I was in a car crash, I had saved up all my money to buy a self-driving Google car. I guess it couldn't self-drive away from a semi in the wrong lane. Somehow I woke up in (dramatic pause) Westeros! Yay! (Sarcastic) Also I have to go through puberty again, my best guess is that my body 13 or so. I'll double back to the how and why of this when I know more (probably never). There is something weird going on in Harrenhal and given this worlds record with magic, I have absolutely no interest in finding out. Curiosity has killed a lot of people throughout history and I suspect I am going to be worrying about plenty of other things potentially killed me._

 _Weird or not, it's an opportunity. I arrived while Lady Whent (current owner of Harrenhal) was wasting away in her deathbed and she immediately took me for her long lost something or other returned by divine will and declared me her heir. What was I going to do? Say no and wander a hostile world with no resources or local knowledge?_

 _I suspect that the local Septon is a lunatic because it took almost no convincing whatsoever to declare my 'return' as a genuine miracle and a sign of divine favor. In a medieval world, the state religion has broad authority and with the lack of communication, one probably crazy man's proclamation can take hold over the land for a long time before someone with the authority to countermand it gets word. It takes even longer for them to come to a decision and send word back. If that does happen, I can think of many other ways to drag things out. Requests for clarification, messages being lost, debates on legality or even just playing stupid. All that means that I might have enough time to establish myself before people really start messing with me._

 _So, with a the command of a delirious and dying woman and the blessing of a probably crazy septon, I was declared the new heir with a regent to be decided upon by those who missed out on profiting from the end of Whent control of Harrenhal in the next few days._

 _Now I couldn't just ask everyone what year it was without setting off even more alarm bells so I have had to do some investigation and guess work. All the Stark children are born from what I hear but they are still much younger than in the beginning of the show. Based on that, I figure that I have seven or eight years before the shit-storm begins with the War of Five Kings. I need a game plan here._

 _Option 1- Bailout now and go to some beach in Essos with as much money as I can pilfer from the Harrenhal treasury and live out the rest of my days in peace. This seems like the safest choice at first but I only got to see season 5 of the show so I don't know if the White Walkers will make it over to Essos and even if they don't it's still a dangerous place with wars, disease magical beasts and I wouldn't have the protection of being important. Let's shelve option 1 for the moment._

 _Option 2- Try to get back to Seattle. It would be nice but I can only guess that it would involve magic and as I said before, I don't do magic._

 _Option 3- Stick around and prepare for the coming shit storm. Now hear me out Journal (I refuse to call you diary) this isn't as crazy as it sounds. Lady Whent won't last the week most likely. I can cut a deal with my regent putting me in charge in reality if not in name. With real power and resources I can restructure my lands and introduce targeted changes. Eight years is enough time to improve my situation greatly. If nothing else, it will give me time to save up money for when I bail._

 _Okay, I think I'm going to stick with option 3 for the time being. Assuming I stick around I need allies, I need to pick a side in the war and I need some goals._

 _Sides_

 _Rob Stark- Can't win. I'm sorry bro but this King in the North thing will never work out and I'm not going to tie myself to a sinking ship_

 _Renly- Second verse, same as the first._

 _Stannis- I'm not down with the whole burning people alive thing…or the losing._

 _Targaryen- I can't realistically wait for Daenerys to get here years and years from now on my own._

 _Greyjoy- AHAAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA_

 _Barratheon/Lannister- Am I really considering this? Am I really considering joining the bad guys even temporarily? I feel like Poland considering joining Germany in 1938 in the hopes of switching to the allies in 1944._

 _I need to sleep on this._

* * *

 _Journal Entry (291 AC)_

 _I saw someone writing a letter labeled 291 AC so I now know what year I am in. If I remember correctly, the War of Five Kings takes place in 299 or 300. Eight odd years then, that was an accurate prediction at the very least._

 _Lady Whent is dead and I lord Hunter Whent have a castle full of visiting Riverlords who hate my guts. Every single one of them knows what's best for me and they often don't agree. This poses a problem for me but I have a cunning plan, I'll let you know how it goes._

 _Hoster Tully is an ass._

* * *

 _Journal Entry (Do they have names for months?)_

 _It kind of worked._

 _My regent is Harry Bracken the 30-odd landless and bitter third son of house Bracken. He was considered unimportant enough to assign to a temporary position but loyal enough to support Hoster Tully's interests in Harrenhal. I had a frank chat with Harry about who would be really in charge at Harrenhal. After I gave him a choice between disappearing forever or having riches, land and the opportunity to start his own household all the while screwing the people who had denied him any opportunity for success, he joined my team._

 _With Harry's help I put all of my vassals and servants to work surveying, taking a census etc. the theory being that if I can keep them busy enough working for me they won't have enough time to plot against me. I sent my vassal Ser Willis Wode and several others to Essos on various errands._

 _Success!_

 _We also managed to send all of the Riverlords home eventually but unfortunately we managed to offend most of them. Harry is turning out to be a competent administrator but he is the farthest thing from diplomat imaginable and I don't know how to act like a lord, my mom made me read Emily Post but I don't remember most of it._

 _Less than successful!_

 _It occurs to me that the more I change things, the more my foreknowledge of events will be less and less useful. As much as it sucks, I think my best option is to pull a Switzerland until the right moment to make my move. Sorry Starks! I actually feel pretty terrible knowing what's going to happen knowing that these are real people._

 _In financial news, Harrenhal is actually fairly wealthy so I should be able to make some of my plans work. Plan number one is to tear the damn thing down. Based on what I know from the books and the show and by my presence here I have decided that Harrenhal has some kind of magic, I hired several septons, worshippers of the Old Gods and even a red priest to bless every stone, plank and piece of furniture they pull out of their just to be sure. I may be ruining my only chance to get home but I need immediate security from occult influences more than I need a slim possibility of getting home way down the line._

* * *

 _Journal entry (July 291)_

 _So they use the same calendar as us, I guess I shouldn't be that surprised given that they speak English. I can't help but wonder if the language and the culture is so similar or I simply have some magic with me always translating between me and the rest of the world. I arrived in April by the way._

 _Putting everyone to work turned out to be the right idea the survey I ordered found silver to the north of the old fortress, a lot of silver. I wrote to the Maesters in Oldtown and found that a proper survey of the Seven Kingdoms was never conducted, surveys have only been made by local lords and explorers and then compiled at Oldtown. It leaves me salivating over the resources that have not been found yet. Harry shares my opinion. I'm pleased with him, he has adjusted really well to the idea of a 26-year-old in a 13 year old's body and has been fantastic at setting up a fledgling bureaucracy to manage my lands while I try to translate my crazy ideas into reality. Hopefully my new guest shall help this process along greatly._

 _Dear God I said "shall", I've been here too long._

* * *

July 291

"You want to tear down your ancestral home?" Castellan Harry Bracken asked his charge incredulously. He had dealt with many odd and unexpected things in recent weeks, especially with regards to the partnership he had entered into with the young Lord Whent but this took the cake. He continued "I know it is not in the best shape but it has a proud history and tearing it down may have severe impacts on your already extraordinary claim."

Bracken and Whent were sitting at Bracken's writing desk in his chambers. Lord Whent was small and slight of frame but he had bright eyes that exuded intelligence and his movements carried a boundless energy with them. He began to lift a large stack of papers and leather-bound books of records onto the desk. Bracken scowled at this, he hated reading and writing and was in no mood to dig through even more on top of what his duties already forced him to do. "What's this?" He asked

Lord Hunter Whent spoke as he continued to fill Brackens desk. "These are the financial records of Harrenhal and its associated land plus documentation of every kind stretching back decades."

Bracken wore an expectant expression. He asked "and what do they say?"

Whent finally finished filling the desk and looked up at his regent to say "We should be rich; we would be very rich if we didn't spend so much money on the keeping this terrible fortress from falling apart around us. Forget the prestige of this ruin. If we tore this down, we could pay off all of the people whose opinions matter with regards to my claim with money left over. We can be build a new fortress. We can put it on the Kingsroad and tax a penny from everyone who uses it. We can say it's for maintaining the road to justify it. We even will spend some of the money on the road to encourage more travel. There are countless travelers along the road every day. We have plenty of guards we already pay to sit around and make their presence known. All we have to do is send a few of those same men to sit on the road and make their presence known!"

Bracken considered the possibility for several moments. Like most things he discussed with his charge it was clear that Whent had put more thought into matters than a boy his age would be expected to. It had merit. He motioned to the mountain of documents on his desk and asked "And all these documents support this, you've read them?"

Whent nodded and said "They do, and I have"

Bracken leaned back in his chair and thought about it some more. "We would need money in the short term, a lot of money. It would take quite a bit of time for our new income to reach acceptable levels."

"There are many ways to get money" Whent replied quickly

Bracken let out a small chuckle. "Indeed there are" He said "Some are smarter and less dangerous than others. Go now, I'm sure you are missing a lesson of some sort. You have given me a lot to think about. And take all this damned paper with you."

Whent flashed his best smile and began to gather his evidence confident in his victory. They had been through several conversations like this and he knew from experience that if you put enough paper in front of him, Bracken would not read a word of it and simply ask for a summary. A dangerous trait for the older man but a boon to one Hunter Whent. By this point he had taken to including pages and pages of gibberish in all of his proposals to make the reading seem intimidating.

* * *

July 291 AC

In a relatively humble manse 30 miles East of Harrenhal, Lord Hunter Whent practically melted into his new leather armchair when he first sat down. He took a mug of hot coffee newly imported from Ghis from his most trusted servant, Seneschal Grimsby and sighed with satisfaction. "Really my lord its midday, with the number of projects you've started upon is gathering moss from inactivity the best way to spend your day? Representative Nestoris is eager to see you." Grimsby chided lightly.

Lord Whent chuckled, "Grimsby what have I told you about Saturday mornings?"

"That they are sacred." Grimsby replied with the tone of one almost but not quite defeated.

Hunter nodded in absentminded agreement while staring absently at the smoldering fire. He turned back to Grimsby suddenly alert and excited "you're right though, I want to meet with him as well, have him meet me in my office in an hour."

"Very good my lord"

Hunter's office had been elegant showpiece designed to impress visitors without ever really being used. Under his occupation of the old retreat designed by some forgotten minor family or another, the gilded room had become a scene of organized chaos that frightened any maids brave enough to peek in. Aside from the tall and thin shelves of leather-bound books any of the gilded trappings of the office were lost to the drawings and diagrams plastered on every inch of wall space and every surface was covered in maps and charts. Stacks of records and other miscellaneous items lurked in every nook and cranny. All ornaments had been removed other than Whent Crest of black bats upon a yellow field above the main desk and a wood carving of an eagle standing alert resting on the same table.

Almost the moment Hunter sat down Seneschal Grimsby conducted Representative Nestoris into the room. Tycho Nestoris was tall, thin, and gaunt. He had a narrow face with dark eyes and a long, thin beard, which almost reaches his waist. He wore a brimless three-tiered hat of purple felt, robes of a sober purple trimmed with ermine and a high stiff collar that contrasted Hunter's dark leather jacket and well-made but simple pants and shirt.

"It's so good to finally meet you Representative" Hunter began, "please sit"

"Why thank you Lord Whent" Nestoris replied, soaking in the odd designs and figures around the room while sitting down. "I'll admit that I'm surprised to be meeting with you rather than your regent. You're taking on serious responsibilities for one so young." He had a rather predatory smile on his face.

"We'll double back to the issue of my age in a moment" Hunter said with a predatory smile of his own. He knew it wouldn't work with his young face but he couldn't show weakness. "The Iron Bank is known for its discretion, yes? Anything we speak of will be kept secret unless I default on my payments?"

"Of course" Nestoris returned.

"And you are familiar with the extraordinary circumstances associated with my arrival?

A single nod.

"Then know that I am far older than I appear. I don't pretend to understand how these circumstances came to be but understand that I am taking steps to deal with the forces responsible. In addition, understand the opportunity I bring." Hunter said with iron in his voice that seemed unnatural for one so young. "I come from a land far away, a land far richer more advanced than this one." He gestured grandly around the room to the designs. "I want to bring that knowledge, wealth and power here for all to benefit but I can't do it alone."

Nestoris took it all remarkably well, in fact he seemed to skip the shock stage that Bracken and Grimsby had shared and became keenly interested, even eager. "You need our money?"

Hunter was taken aback "You don't seem surprised"

Nestoris shrugged, "We in Essos are more accustomed to magic than those in Westeros and as I said, we already knew the circumstances of your arrival was extraordinary."

Hunter smiled with relief at meeting someone who could handle his identity. "I have the money and raw material for my projects, what I need is your network, your people. The Iron Bank operates around the world. I have the knowledge from my world but I need architects, soldiers, masons, scholars and more to make my knowledge into reality.

"We can do that, what does the Iron Bank get from this relationship?"

Hunter smiled "Well…"

* * *

 _Journal Entry (May 292)_

 _The Iron Bank found the people I needed. I ended up selling 8% of my silver mine for 2 Million dragons and agreed to house the Westeros branch of the Iron Bank. I'm sure I got robbed but in the end we both are better off from this deal. I immediately committed all of it to my various projects listed below._

 _2 new fortresses were commissioned, the first on the banks of the Gods Eye Lake and the second, larger one upon a large hill that rose 300 feet above the Kingsroad named Winterhold and Summerhold respectively. Each will be constructed with modern practices adapted into tried and true traditions. The massive construction projects have attracted smallfolk from the surrounding Crownlands, Riverlands and a few from farther abroad. The settlements springing up around them will only be an asset in the war to come. Unfortunately this has pissed off the Riverlords even more. I really need to start working on making friends._

 _I am hosting a Dothraki named Kalgo whom they managed to get drunk enough to cross the narrow sea. I put him in charge of training the officer corps of my new professional Light Calvary unit the 1st Dragoons. I'm not sure what to do with him afterward I'm satisfied though. He's too unstable to keep around permanently but the last thing I need is for him to go across the narrow sea again to let the Dothraki know everything about Westeros. In addition I have one Sargent Xhar of Ghis to teach Roman-like tactics to my new 1st Infantry, my plan is to build those two units up to full strength by the beginning of the war. Supporting these units will be my National Guard initiative. Rather than militias, the Guard will be far better equipped, trained and more professional than their peers._

 _Domestically, I have enforced laws requiring boiling water before use. In agriculture, crop rotation and basic harvesting machines like the moldboard plow are starting to be introduced into the fields. Over the next several years these should create a surplus that will last us through the coming winter. I have an experimental printing press tucked away in my manse. I want to keep that in reserve however, I am holding off on that and other inventions like gunpowder until we are closer to the flashpoint._

 _I can only handle so much however, with everything going on I am not sleeping in any meaningful way and neither are most of the people who work for me. We'll see how things develop in the near future._

* * *

December 292

"What are you going to do about it?!" Queen Cersei demanded of her Husband

"What are you screeching about?" The Fat King asked, finally rousing from bittersweet memories of simpler times.

"Screeching! SCREECHING!" Cersei howled with a rising fury. "I'll hav…" She stopped herself and looked around the luxurious royal apartments for any potential witnesses. "I'll have you know" she continued in an icy rage "that I don't screech you fat fool. And I was saying" she paused to reassert control over herself "that you have an important lord with lands bordering the crownlands building a fortress on the Kingsroad and building an army of foreigners and God's knows what else so what are you going to do!" She stared with hard eyes at him, waiting for his response.

King Robert sat for a long time considering the situation, completely unaffected by his wife's displeasure. Finally, he said "How many other fortresses are along the main roads? Five? Ten? It won't make a real difference in the long run. As for the foreign army. Well, no matter how much silver he digs up, he can't raise enough troops to be a threat to anyone but the minor Riverlords neighboring him, what's he going to do? Take over the Seven Kingdoms? No let him be, he's in trouble with the Riverlords already.

* * *

In the center of Harroway's Town Square, a large group of citizens were gathered to listen to an enormously fat and unbelievably loud town herald speak address them. The herald had taken up position on a platform that was used during market fairs and public executions. The symbolism was not lost on the townsfolk and all were anxious to see what the news was.

"I bring word from your new lord!" The herald began. "Momentous times are upon us. First, the fortress of Harrenhal is to be demolished, workers are sought at fair wages and reasonable hours. Go to the local in to see a recruiter for a position on the project."

A murmur of whispered discussion rippled through the crowd. This was good news, large construction projects meant good work for anyone who wanted it.

The herald continued "Second, a silver mine is to be constructed on a large deposit that has just been found, workers are sought for this new project. Go to the inn to find a job recruiter. That generated even more excitement. Lust for silver could be seen in the eyes of many a young man looking to make their own way. "Third" He finished "the military forces of Harrenhal are to be rebuilt. All capable men are encouraged to see their local recruiter and from here on out all citizens of Lord Whent's lands must practice with the longbow for two hours each week. Those who do not have a longbow may practice at a local garrison and borrow a longbow. These are the proclamations of our honorable Lord Hunter Whent."

As the herald turned to leave the crowd began to break up and many went back to their daily tasks. One Sulvan Tiren, a 28-year-old childless widower raced to the inn to be first in line. In the inn there were three tables, one for each of the recruiting jobs. He was first in line in to the military recruiting station. The recruiter looked pleased at his eager new prospect and said "State your name for the record."

Sulven snapped to attention and declared "Sulven Tiren sir!"

The recruiter suddenly looked even more pleased. He said "You're a veteran aren't you? There could be a bonus for you, what's your experience?"

"Sir, I was a sergeant in the forces sent to fight in the Greyjoy Rebellions, I fought in the final siege of pike hand to hand. I was among those who they let go as they downsized their forces after the fighting was over".

"Say no more" the recruiter said, "make your mark on this contract and we will get you back into fighting shape in no time.

* * *

 _Journal Entry (February 293)_

 _I'm in trouble with the Riverlords._

 _They are upset about me stealing their peasants, foreigners in their lands and making more money than them._

 _Oh and my liege Lord Hoster Tully demanded I stopped consorting with the Lannister and Tyrells. I was just selling silver and inventions to them…and negotiating trade agreements with them and the Iron Bank that were detrimental to the Tully's. No big deal! Honest!_

 _Hoster Tully is an ass._

* * *

 _ **March 293**_

 _ **Your Grace**_

 _ **I have been informed that you may be receiving demands certain entreaties from Lord Paramount Hoster Tully concerning my lands. I state that everything that he may list as a concern is happening exclusively on my land and has only benefited the Iron Throne. I ask you to consider these facts before making any decisions and to keep me informed of any developments.**_

 _ **Lord Tully helped you prove yourself greater than the Targaryen's in war allow me to help you prove yourself greater than the Targaryen's in peace.**_

 _ **Lord Hunter Whent of Harrenhal**_

* * *

 _ **Your Grace**_

 _ **The situation in the Whent lands has become intolerable. I request that you issue a Royal edict requiring the removal of the so called Winterhold Fortress from the Kingsroad and restricting foreigners from gathering in numbers.**_

 _ **Lord Paramount Hoster Tully**_

* * *

 _ **Your Grace**_

 _ **I would not recommend overly rash action in regards to the Harrenhal situation, I have sent my son Tyrion to advise you in this matter.**_

 _ **Lord Tywin of Casterly Rock,**_

 _ **Warden of the West,**_

 _ **Lord Paramount of the Westerlands**_

* * *

 _ **April 293**_

 _ **Lord Whent,**_

 _ **You make a good case for yourself. I welcome your efforts**_

 _ **King Robert of the Andals and the First Men,**_

 _ **Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,**_

 _ **Protector of the Realm**_

* * *

 _ **Lord Paramount Hoster Tully,**_

 _ **I find your case wanting, refrain from taking severe action in this matter for now but keep me advised of developments.**_

 _ **King Robert of the Andals and the First Men,**_

 _ **Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,**_

 _ **Protector of the Realm**_

* * *

 _ **Tywin,**_

 _ **Fuck Off,**_

 _ **Robert**_


	17. Note

p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="CENTER"emHey guys and gals, I am sorry to report that progress on the rewrite of An American in Westeros is indefinitely halted. I'm afraid that the rewrites simply aren't different enough for me yet. I promise to return to this story when I have some real changes to make. /em/p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="CENTER" /p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="CENTER" /p  
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" align="CENTER"emWhile you are waiting (If you are waiting, I don't want to come off as insufferably arrogant and assume that everyone is checking in regularly for more chapters) I encourage you to check out my new Star Wars story Against the Void./em/p 


End file.
